


You Give Love A Bad Name

by WhenIFindLoveAgain



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alpha Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Reality, Angst and Porn, Anti-Hero, Antichrist, Asphyxiation, Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Background Character Death, Background Relationships, Biting, Cancer, Catholic Character, Catholic Guilt, Catholic Imagery, Catholicism, Character Study, Choking, Christian Character, Christian Holidays, Christianity, Chronic Illness, Claiming Bites, Crush at First Sight, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Heartbeat Kink, Hospitals, Illnesses, Implied Relationships, Korean Characters, Korean Religion & Lore, Korean-American Character, Love Bites, Love at First Sight, Lung Cancer, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Major Illness, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mentions of Cancer, Motorcycles, Music, Musicians, Neo-Paganism, Omega Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Omega Verse, Pagan Festivals, Pagan Gods, Paganism, Past, Past Relationship(s), Poor Bones, Porn with Feelings, Pre-Relationship, Realistic, References to Illness, Relationship Study, Roman Catholicism, Russian Literature, Russian Mythology, Russian Roulette, Secret Relationship, Shamanism, Shameless Smut, Smut, Terminal Illnesses, Wheelchairs, Writers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 58,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25608745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenIFindLoveAgain/pseuds/WhenIFindLoveAgain
Summary: Joshua is a flourishing Omega song-writer but is burderned down by central nervous system disorders and on-off again cancer-related illnesses but is uniquely bound to the Alpha grandchild of Asia's largest and oldest arms and weaponry dealers and manufacturers, Choi Seungcheol, who has been in love with him since they were 15 years old at highschool. Joshua has never forgotten the day when Seungcheol saved his life when he passed out on the school oval, and, their world's and their perceptions of the wider world change as they meet each other through a mutual friend again. It's cultural, intimate, prejudiced, historical, deep, focused, noir, immersive and utterly alive
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Hong Jisoo | Joshua, Hong Jisoo | Joshua/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 35
Kudos: 51





	1. PROLOUGE

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Alpha/Beta/Omega work, so, apart from the naturalist interest in this as far as psychological behavior, I don't know much about it as a...written tale. In medical, psychological, and naturalism studies, the Aplha/Beta/Omega dynamics are examples of animalistic behaviour in men and women, but, once you get on the internet...*laughing* it's a lot different :) Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this work. Despite the way it's tagged, it will be a deeply immersive and insightful look into human behavior, love, illness and, how we take that and revolutionize into something extraordinary. There will be quite animalistic parts in this work. Please leave comments and kudos, it's fantastic motivation and care :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Choi Seungcheol has never been able to forget about Joshua Hong, the person he is sure is the love of his life, despite the other man's terminal health. His whole world turns on it's head when his best friend Jihoon rings him up one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do enjoy :)

Choi Seungcheol was sure most people on the Earth would say he needed to have some sense slapped into him. Seungcheol knew his Father would have the Deity of all fits if he found out. But, it's the way it was. Naturalism, animalism, humanism. It all worked out as the Universe wanted. Seungcheol had never been a Christian man in any sense; to be perfectly honest, his family loathed them with a passion. For the last thirty-odd years, Seungcheol's family had been "rowing" - to put it politely - with a local Christian-based sect, then, the corrupt and irreverent Masons, and, then corrupt and irreverent businessmen in general. Seungcheol had listened to his Father so many times wearily express how he wished his Father - Seungcheol's Grandfather - had put an end to their family business of the past 116 years way back in the early 1980's. But, back to the main point.

Seungcheol had a crush. Which was perfectly feasible. Many young men and women did.

But it was a crush on a man who had to be the most out-of-this-world omega in living history.

Joshua Hong was a masterpiece, but, severely ripped up at the edges.

Seungcheol scarcely knew where to begin.

His terminal disease involving his central nervous system that caused bad heart health, damaged lungs, bloody throat and nose, the need for a partial tracheotomy, hormone therapy when he was in his early teens because his body could barely produce enough red and white blood cells to keep him alive, let alone tesosterone. Every two years was a renewed death date, but, Joshua seemed to jump the hurdle everytime, even if he could be in hospital for two, three - even five - weeks at a time. He sometimes needed a oxygen tank that he wheeled around behind him on a tiny little trolley fitting that connected to the bottom of the tank, and Seungcheol felt desperately sorry for him. He had a face too pretty for other guys to look at and not think "girl" or "gay" or "weird", and, his terminal illness, bloody noses and - occasionally - bloody filled vomit in one of the garden beds around the school made the girls avoid him like the plauge. He could barely stay awake most days, let alone be around for them.

The irony was, not one hated him. No one spited him. 

It was just so sad to see someone - not just as young as they all were - so ill when so many arsehole-like people could survive and flourish. 

Joshua's parents were fiercely protective of him, and, they were partly another reason why Joshua was all by himself. 

There was one day that stuck vividly in Seungcheol's mind. It had been a sweltering hot day in July, and, the air-conditiong unit in the west-wing of the high-school and got absolutely bust from lack of oxygen and generally, a over-heated motor. The math's teacher - renowned for being a bit old and grump anyhow - had been nearly fainting in the heat, been on blood-pressure tablets himself.

Someone earlier that day also had had the stupidity to paint black eyelashes onto the front of his Shelby Mustang, just above the headlights. So, he truly was in a foul mood. He never yelled at them, or had done anything like that, but, veins bulged in his temples. No one knew who had wrecked the paintwork on his car yet, and, it could have just been one of that class, couldn't it?

"Where do you think you're going?" He had snapped at Joshua when Joshua had got up to leave, school-bag over his shoulder and oxygen-tank in the other hand.

"I need to be at the hospital with my Father for a MRI scan; we put in world with Principle. Kang this morning, and he said it was alright for me to attend half day -"

Everyone had watched as the maths teacher had cut Joshua off and had told him to sit back down. 

"Sir, I -"

"Anymore garbage out of you and -"

"His Mum was crying in the car this morning." One of the boys piped up. "She was sobbing into her phone about Joshua possibly having bone-marrow cancer along with his central nervous system been screwed. My Mum went over to ask her if she was ok."

Everyone was dead silent. Some of the girls were starting to look upset. The boys sitting beside them had the chilvary and common-decency and maturity for once to tap their knees under the table and murmur it was alright. 

"Cancer?" The Maths teacher looked to Joshua. 

"Yes, sir." Joshua replied. But, before he could do anything else, the Maths teacher had sunk down to his desk with very wet eyes, and, his shoulders began to shake as he buried his balding head into his hands. Everyone was too stunned to do anything for a few moments. Joshua knelt down on the floor and said something to the Maths teacher before hugging and thanking him, and taking his leave. Some of the girls pulled at tissues from their skirt pockets, but, the ageing man mopped his eyes and brow with a handkerchief and said that they were welcome to "free time" for the rest of his lesson. 

That was the day that Seungcheol learnt that this lonely, terminally ill student evidently had more balls and humanity in him than any of the goody-two-shoes, the football players, the studiers, and, then, just the general normal ones.

Seungcheol had gotten quite held up on Joshua since he was about sixteen. He was now twenty-three.

Joshua was still alive, and, Seungcheol could scarcely wonder how he managed it. Just before his seventeenth birthday, Joshua had made one his last days in school, he had wheeled himself into the school assembly hall in a wheelchair with all his hair lost over the school holidays due to chemotherapy treatment, and, due to it, a black bandana around his head, and, the oxyegn-tank stuck into a pouch behind it. He had stayed up the back by the doors, and, Seungcheol had nearly cried. One of his good friends, slightly younger than him, Lee Jihoon had very cleverly and un-noticably had slipped his index and middle fingers into Seungcheol's pocket and had tugged on it slightly. The simple gesture had meant a lot to him; proof that his best friend hadn't been ignorant.

But, now, they were all grown up. Jihoon was rushing about as a music producer, and, Seungcheol was helping their Father with their business:

Military Weaponry Manufacturing.

"I always wondered why you were never in one of those private schools." Jihoon had once said to him.

"Oh, they're all either bible-bashers or wankers." Seungcheol had simply replied. Jihoon had burst out laughing.

"That's about right." Jihoon had agreed.

Back to the present, it was half-ten at night and Seungcheol had just got back to the apartment he lived in. His Father had wanted him to have a house, a proper house, but, Seungcheol insisted he was happy in a apartment. It was small, easy to look after -

"And the same price as a proper house." His Father had argued. So, as all Father's do, M. Choi interfered.

He bought a World War II era munitions factory and converted it into a old-world character designed home. To be honest, it was the size of eight family homes in one, so, the other six were sold off, and, it left Seungcheol with his own place, plus an extra one.

"But, Dad, what am I going to do with it?" Seungcheol had asked.

"You can have it as a workshop, a place to put bits and bobs, or, if you want to have a couple of little buggers one day -" Seungcheol smiled at his Father's affectionate tone of voice concering possibly grandchildren - something he wanted quite a lot. "There's space for them and the missus - but you can always get rid of her, just keep the babies."

Jihoon rang his phone. Seungcheol was actually delighted to hear from him.

"Hey, mate, how are you -"

"Remember Joshy from school with the oxi-tank and the chemotherapy?" Jihoon interrupted him.

Seungcheol's insides went cold and he felt sick. Oh. Oh God. That was something he hadn't heard out in the real world for a very, very long time. Oh dear God.

"Of course I do." He answered. He hesitated. "Has he died after all this time?"

"I've just become his boss." Jihoon told him swiftly, not allowing any time for Seungcheol to rip himself into a million pieces. 

"You are kidding me." Seungcheol's hand went through his hair.

"No, I'm not." Jihoon said. "He's come onto my production team as a writer. And, fuck, he's good at it." 

Seungcheol had to take a seat down in his sitting room. He looked up the sixteen-foot high shark-tooth ceilings above his head. "Oh fucking hell." He managed softly. "What's he -"

"Beautiful." Jihoon confirmed. Even though that hadn't been Seungcheol's question directly, it was. "Tall, healthy as can be - he's still fucked, will be for the rest of his life - a bit underweight...no, let's change that to underweight. Has to drink green tea and take a tablet of some sort before he can have even a mouthful of food. He's got all his hair back - head, eyebrows, eyelashes. Nice clothes. Nice home. Nice manner. I'd say he's still got no one in his life."

Seungcheol felt he could barely process the information coming onto him, and, yet, he was doing it at a rapid speed. He just could not believe it.

"Does he still have the tank?" He asked.

"Yes." Jihoon answered. "And guess what?"

"What?" Seungcheol's body unintentionally tensed up. 

"He's got a motorcycle with a carry basket on the passenger seat that he puts it in." Jihoon told him. Seungcheol could hear the grin in Jihoon's voice.

Seungcheol steadily began to laugh, and, once he started, he had a hard time stopping. "Oh, wow, that's cool." He said, pressing his hand over his mouth. His eyes burned wetly, but, they were happy. He was happy.

"How about you pop by tomorrow to see me and you..." Jihoon put to him. Seungcheol suddenly felt breathless.

"Does he remember you?" Seungcheol found himself asking, working it out in his head.

"Oh, yeah - shortest bloke in high school but dated the tallest chick." Jihoon answered freely-toned. "And he remembers you. By the way, he thought you did it, but I clarified it."

"What?" Seungcheol suddenly found himself hesitant. He knew Jihoon well.

Very, very well. 

"You remember he went to sleep on the football over and the football dickheads who couldn't wake him up but checked his pulse to see he was still alive just played football around him and got his oxi-tank with the football and nearly killed him because the nozzle on the tank got damaged and Josh started coughing up blood and that clear liquid muck?" Jihoon said.

Seungcheol's stomach dropped.

Joshua had literally nearly died that day. All five of the football players had been expelled from the school, and, both Joshua's Mother and Father had beaten up the parents of one of the boys, who had been the football captain. Joshua's Father had belt the fuck out of the boy's Dad with the bone-chilling commands to pull his "cunt of a son into line unless he wants to die" and when the man's wife had gone to hit Joshua's Father, Joshua's Mother had knig-hit her across the face, and had broken her nose and cheekbone.

That had been a disaster. Both of Joshua's parents were ruled by court to be cleared of violence charges, but, they had to attend a anger-management course and specialised counselling for parents with sick children.

Somehow, the Hongs had got out of having to do any of that. 

"Joshua knows it was you who gave him CPR and kept rubbing and thumping his back so he didn't choke on all the stuff pooling in his lungs." Jihoon said. "I really think he wants to see you."

Seungcheol knew he had a garguantion decision ahead of him. But, it was so simple to answer. He had been longing so long for it.

"Yes." Seungcheol said. "I'll come around in the...morning or afternoon?"

"About half-five so we can go out and ruin a waiters life at some food place afterwards." Jihoon decided for Seungcheol. Seungcheol laughed. Jihoon was only ever funny if it was unintentional, in his general experience of the smaller man.

"That sounds great." Seungcheol told Jihoon sincerely.

"So, have a shower tomorrow morning, change the bed linen on your bed, and set up two of the spare rooms." Jihoon added. "I might have to get drunk tomorrow night because tomorrow morning the group I've been helping produce their record is debuting and it could go either way. And the other room needs to be set up because Joshy gets tired easy and I don't think he'll want to dive straight into bed with you, anyway."

Seungcheol coloured slightly, but, at the mere mention of Joshua staying over at his house, his body felt warm and impossibly in love.

If the truth be known, he had never stopped being in love with Joshua Hong.

There it was.

Yes.

He fell in love, and, the love he had for Joshua Hong...that was it.

Joshua Hong was the one.

It had never died out, never burned out. But, for the sake of his own health, Seungcheol had learned after a long time to keep it out of his mind so it didn't fill him up twenty-four-seven, because, it didn't need too.

Either way, Joshua Hong lived in him. 

Whether he himself lived or not.


	2. CHAPTER ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol has a eventful day at his families ammunition and military machinery factory, before he is completely blown away by the ten years older omega Joshua Hong with a scent like rain and winter air. A bit of an insight into Seungcheol's family comes into hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, the scent thing; everyone makes up scents like honey and sugar and all of these things with kink in mind. I wanted to bring on something more animalistic. Besides, everyone gets a smile on their face and weak knees at the smell of rain. Cigarette smoke is very special to me; most idiots have the opinion that smoking is dirty, bit, actually, there's such s presence in it. My Mam-gu is a smoker, but, her cigarettes have a slice amongst the tobacco so she smells like gingerbread, like a bakery. The smell get in her hair, her clothes, her pinnies, her jeans, her skin. I love just being able to hug her and inhale that smell. There's nothing dirty about smoking. Human beings did it for too long to be dirty

Seungcheol brought a spare shirt in his bag along with his laptop. Today had been a "gloating day", as his Father and Grandfather referred to it as.

Showing off new ammunition, guns, machinery parts and general information on upcoming product for represenatives from the Defence Force. Seungcheol's nonogenarian Grandfather had taken a machine gun out of the hands of a young coporal when the testing of the weapons had been demonstrated before the Government representatives, and had caused a scene. Seungcheol had had to stop himself beaming from pride and humor at his Grandfather's actions before the old, old man blasted the head off a silicone test dummy, wrinkled, dark eyes locked on it. 

There had been a fight earlier that day. One of the Army commanders was one they dealt with on the four times a year trips. He was a cunt of a man, he truly was, but, anyone would change darkly after thirty years of political revolution, tensions, conflict, threats, faulty weapons, inside corruption, and, human rights protest and legislation. No one had forgotten the protest against the Korean army's rules of "No Sodomy". The commanders signature pen, one from Paris that was overwhelmingly expensive, hovered up the legal documents that would give the Choi's five billion pounds over five years from the current elected government, and, then on, if the current government lost position of power to the opposition. 

"What shall the Americans think?" The commander had thought aloud, but, it was a direct attack. Whatever Seungcheol's Father had been going to say, Seungcheol stepped in as - unseen by the Commander, other officials, and his Father - Seungcheol's Grandfather reached for the hunting machete he kept inside his left boot.

"At least we won't give you guns where the barrel locks and explode into the faces of how many young men was it? Yeah, ninety young men. Ninety young men with their faces blown apart due to you filthy cunts trying to get a cheaper deal." Seungcheol had said with enough snarl to cause a scene. 

In this enviroment, none of the officials would let the Commander beat up the son and heir of the ammunition manufacturing company for their country, but, a yelling fest. was not out of the question. But even that hadn't happened. The Commander had opened his mouth, but, Seungcheol's Grandfather brought out, not his machete, but the hand-cannon he kept on the inside of his jacket. He had pointed it not at the Commando's head, but towards the group of Government officials on the other side of the room, before pointing it to the original gasolier from the 1920's that hung from the ceiling. With it's open flame and gas canister, it would be like a bomb, coming down to the ground. 

"You know for yourself I'm trigger happy and that good little Shaman's like us aren't stupid enough to believe in Hell." The old man had grinned viciously.

That had been the end of that.

As he packed up to leave work, his Father and Grandfather had their usual "War of The Vinyl Records". His Father's record of KISS "Sure Know Something" warred with his Grandfather's Tom Jones "She's A Lady". 

Seungcheol called out goodbye to them both, and they both shouted back, "See you mate", "Take care!".

His Grandfather had always been big on love. Especially babies. It was where his Father got it from. When Seungcheol had been about fourteen, his Father had started up on it. They'd be in the middle of the supermarket or driving in the car and point out a baby in arms or in a pram to Seungcheol and coo, "Oh, look, isn't that one gorgeous?" 

Anytime a Choi had a baby it was revered as the best period of the Choi's life, it seemed. Seungcheol didn't mind children himself, but, he couldn't imagine someone been willing to have one of his babies. Date him for a bit, maybe, screw around, but not settle down, get married, have a couple of little ones - and it would have to be a couple of little ones. Not just one, at least two. Seungcheol knew his Grandfather had his old heart set on at least six great-grandchildren just from Seungcheol alone, neverminding his brother who had been in a long-term relationship for...well, a very long time.

Seungcheol drove to the music company where Jihoon worked, named Pledis. Seungcheol tried to work out where the name come from; he knew it was most like Anicent Greek for suceeding or some other rubbish like that, but, genuinely, that was his main thought.

What a crock of shit it all was.

Seungcheol had to wait at the reception for a couple of minutes after submitting his reason for turning up, and, someone came into the three-storey high open-spaced entrance hall to take him through the company buildings to where Jihoon was. 

Only at this specific moment did Seungcheol realize how close he was to seeing Joshua, been with Joshua again. He had had it neatly out of his mind all day; getting into rows with Army Commanders generally caused that. Seungcheol wondered if Joshua still looked a little bit like he did when they were younger. Seungcheol couldn't count the amount of times, through heats, through ruts, and, even, just ordinairly, he had thought about Joshua's face and, how, more often than not, Seungcheol could read everything about him. Doctor's appointments due to the bruises on his arms from the nurses trying to find a vein for a needle, the scent of disinfectant on his hands. Sleepless nights due to the bags under Joshua's skin, the ash-like tone of Joshua's skin, the underlying balefulness about his whole being as he swallowed tablets throughout the day like clockwork. Seungcheol used to wonder if Joshua - if that was what he felt like. Clockwork. In-human, in-feeling, machinery. Machinery set to run a certain way, to do certain things. Never doing anything else - never capable of doing anything else - unless they broke down, and, when they broke down, they were stopped.

They were dead.

Seungcheol tried to ease down his heartbeat as they were nearly at Jihoon's studio. The assistant showed him in with a smile and a good evening, before going off on his way, probably to pack up and go home. As soon as Seungcheol pushed open the door, two scents mingled into one, but, he could identify each one immediately as they were two seperate beings. The second scent was the rejuvination of a memory. One was Jihoon's scent, smelling like ink and the old-world places in the world and something else that was striking and sharp that Seungcheol could never search out a match for. The second scent was absoutely pure; it felt like a rural Winter breeze, but, didn't bite into his skin with temperate. 

It exploded inside Seungcheol and made him dizzy, before rushing through his veins.

Jihoon was sitting in his tan-leather leather swivel chair in jeans, a dark shirt, a jumper, and, his cap was hung up on a peg on the wall across the room. On the table half-sat Joshua. His white oxygen-tank with the green band around the upper-centre as Seungcheol had always known it was sitting up in it's tray, and, the translucent silicone cords wound from the nozzle to Joshua's being, threading over his ears to his nose. As Jihoon called out to him, Joshua's head turned. Seungcheol nearly fell over from the sheer shock. 

Joshua was beautiful. He was absolutely beautiful.

He had large and dark eyes that were wide-set but didn't immediately appear so with his flat nose the same as ever; his full-lipped, small mouth curved upwards at the corners in a smile and Joshua's thick eyebrows shifted slightly. Seungcheol was nearly breathless. Jihoon was right; Joshua was visibly underweight. In his black jeans and white t-shirt, Seungcheol could see from the way Joshua's wrists and elbows stuck out that there wasn't enough of him. His hair was short and dark, and, his skin was flawless. It was the same dark olive toned, and, Seungcheol was happy that Joshua hadn't gone in for the skin whitening trend that nearly everyone seemed into doing.

"Seungcheol." Joshua said with a smile, wider than before, and, as he said Seungcheol's name, he inhaled in on the oxygen. Seungcheol noticed a little red arm on a dial by the canisters nozzle shift up and down, and, it felt like a physical representation of Seungcheol's insides.

"Hey, Josh, you look great." Seungcheol smiled. It stunned him slightly how easy he was being. "It's nice to see you around."

"Alive?" Joshua quipped.

Seungcheol had to remind himself that Joshua had essentially lived with this since about ten years old. None of this effected him in the way it would others.

"To be honest, yes." Seungcehol came and sat down on the table beside Joshua. They had a brief hug, and, Joshua looked at him. Seungcheol couldn't help gazing at the other man.

"What is it?" Joshua's lips barely moved but they moved so entrancingly as he spoke softly.

"Just looking at you." Seungcheol said equally as softly. 

Jihoon kept silent and invisible over in the corner, watching everything going on but not interfereing amongst it. 

Jihoon could sense the pheromenes and the endorphin hormones radiating from both of the young men. He wondered if he should leave them be, but, there was no harm in staying. And it wasn't as though he thought Seungcheol would get in too close, too quick, to harsh onto Joshua. No, of course not. Seungcheol was an Alpha, but he wasn't a pig. 

"Do you smoke?" Joshua suddenly asked Seungcheol.

"Uh...sometimes." Seungcheol suddenly became acutely aware once more of Joshua's oxygen tank and the memory of him with all his hair having fallen out due to chemotherapy treatment in his teens. 

Joshua grinned. "Yeah, I thought I smelt a bakery as you came in."

Seungcheol couldn't quite believe that Joshua wasn't having a go at him about it over it. Giving money to businesses who profitied from something that was downright poison. Seungcheol thought that was how Joshua would see it, but, nothing happened over it. Seungcheol wondered if what was obviously choice came into it; it was his choice to smoke, so, on his own head be it. Sitting there, Seungcheol couldn't get enough of Joshua. He couldn't stop breathing him in, sensing him on a level that was extroadinairy. 

A head-splitting mechanical screech suddenly went through the air. Joshua winced and Seungcheol - growing up with the sounds of gunfire - glared directly at Jihoon who may or may not have leant "accidentally" on the mixing board in his studio to break up the air surrounding them.

"Sorry." Jihoon said, but, it was the most insincere apology Seungcheol was sure he had ever heard.

"How's your day?" Seungcheol asked him.

"Full of girls so dumb that they don't get a Hitler joke." Jihoon answered. Joshua grinned.

"It was really good, actually." Joshua vouched. 

"Weapons testing at your place sounds so much better." Jihoon said, and, this time, he sounded sincere indeed.

"Weapons testing?" Joshua looked at Seungcheol.

"Oh, it's noth -" Seungcheol was barely halfway through his sentence as Jihoon piped up and remarked "Ammunition manufacturers for yonks." And pointed directly at him.

Seungcheol was going to kill Jihoon. Joshua's scent changed slightly.

It smelt like rain.

Seungcheol's heart beat erractically in his chest.

"Let's head off." Jihoon decided. "These four walls are going to get karate kicked, otherwise."


	3. CHAPTER TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Seungcheol and Jihoon get well and truly sozzled (British for drunk), Joshua jumps at the chance to drive a Bentley Continental, and, when they stay overnight at Seungcheol's converted munitions factory home, they talk about why Seungcheol isn't married, their Dads obsessions with babies, daft women, why Joshua can't drink, and, why there is a machine gun on the couch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do like James Blunt; yes, he is a bit of a wanker, but, I do like some of his songs :) 
> 
> (ALL MALE READERS NOW WARNED SO THEY CAN THROW UP IN THEIR MOTHERS HYDRANGEAS AND GROAN OUT, "OH, NOT ANOTHER WOMAN THAT LIKES THAT IRREVERENT SOD!"
> 
> Stay The Night is at the end of the chapter

Jihoon got drunk, Seungcheol got a little bit tipsy, and, Joshua couldn't drink at all with the prescription drugs he was on for his kidneys, blood pressure, red-blood-cell production and hormone control. Seungcheol felt very sorry for Joshua. He told him that as Joshua drove them home in Seungcheol's Bently Continental. From where Joshua sat in the driver's seat, Seungcheol held on to his oxyegn tank, holding it in his lap. All the while, Joshua was having a great time; Jihoon got a bit more gentle - even though he went to sleep - when he was drunk, and, he was able to drive a Bently Continental. How many young men got to drive a car with 676 horsepowers, twin-turbo engine, four-wheel drive, and a price tag of £350,000?

"I've not never drunk." Joshua admitted. "Sometimes I've had a couple but as long as I drink down something to break it down - strong dear, coffee, anything - it's not too bad. Main problem with it is because there's a reaction when the alcohol gets into my bloodstream, I can go to sleep and not wake up again. So, if I do drink and start to feel tired, it means copious amounts of tea and loud music."

Jihoon was lengthways across the backseat, but, had his seat-belt still done up - even though it must be digging into the side of his torso uncomfortably - in case a police car came along. Seungcheol checked him in the back seat, before looking back to Joshua.

"How long did it take to figure it out?" Seungcheol asked.

"One night. The first night ever." Joshua answered.

Seungcheol chuckled softly. He gazed at Joshua. "It's been pretty rough, hasn't it?" He said.

Joshua shrugged. "Not much I can do about it." He glanced at Seungcheol, but kept his eye on the road. On the main road to the 1900-1940's era of Seoul's old industrial scene the speed limit went up to eighty kilometers an hour but Joshua accidentally kept going over to eighty-five, ninety; the Bently had a very sensitive accelerator, and, even though Joshua was being gental, the car - referred to as a "she" by both Jihoon and Seungcheol - She definitely wanted to go fast. Joshua knew he could just put the cruise control on, but, he knew better than to put cruise control on in a Bentley Continental in city traffic. 

Recipe for disaster.

Joshua noticed that Seungcheol wasn't wearing a wedding ring. He asked him how he had managed to get out of it. Seungcheol laughed at that.

"All the women in my family have been nightmares." Seungcheol remarked honestly. "My Mother was a psychopath beta, my Grandmother was an omega so she was quite sweet but, then, she wasn't very smart, and my Great-Grandmother was a hard bitch, but, then, my Great-Grandfather caused that." He rested his hand against his hand, elbow up on the passenger door ledge. "My Dad wants me to have kids - no worries if the woman vanishes afterwards - he just wants some babies to play with and buy clothes for."

Joshua grinned. "My Mum's like that about grandkids. When I was in my teens we'd be shopping to fill in time before an oncology appointment and she'd always go up the baby aisle to have a look at all the little romper suits."

Seungcheol laughed. "All the men in my family do that." He told Joshua. "Even my brother."

"I didn't know you had a brother."

"He wasn't at the same high-school as us. He got bullied for a long while and then when he smacked one the guys that was having a go at him every single day, he was considered the Anti-Christ and he got kicked out."

"That'd be right." A quite dark expression came over Joshua's attractive face. After a few moments, it changed. Seungcheol gave him directions in the last kilometer to his house, and, when they pulled up outside it, Joshua's face lit up.

"Oh, this is cool." Joshua beamed. "This is really, really cool."

With all the other people that had moved in to the converted munition factories, balconies had been built with verandahs; there were outdoor plants and ferns hanging in grass-root holders from the windows. In some cases, faerie lights and all-year-round bunting had been strung up along the shark-toothed ceiling roofs, and, it wasn't ugly or cheap or run-down. It looked absolutely wonderful. 

It was a bit steam-punk, but the plants broke it up.

Seungcheol decided that that was the best way to describe it.

There was an outdoor elevator to go up to the second section of the factory where Seungcheol lived. He explained to Joshua, keeping a sleepy Jihoon upright in his right arm, that he owned the one below too, and kept it as a workshop. 

"What do you do down there?" Joshua asked as they went up.

"Absolutely nothing." Seungcheol grinned. "It's mainly storage space, but, I like vintage cars even though they are a constant task. I'd rather look after a baby than a vintage car; when it comes down to it, they both need the same amount of work, care, love and attention, but, babies are cute and they cuddle you."

"I'd have the car." Joshua answered. They chuckled. As they got into Seungcheol's house, Seungcheol heard the bass beat of the neighbour - five young university students, all girls, all half-decent looking - that rented playing One Republic. "Counting Stars" Seungcheol thought it was.

"Hey, Cheol, show Joshy your pagan stuff..." Jihoon mumbled against his shoulder.

"He's fucking Christian, shut up, you git." Seungcheol growled very, very lowly into Jihoon's ear and dug his nails into Jihoon's hip threateningly. "I don't want him having a fit when it'll take an ambulance half an hour through late night traffic to get here."

Joshua didn't hear them, having wandered ahead to look out the rest of the house. Seungcheol didn't mind; it wasn't like he had anything out of order lying around.

And all his washing was put away, so there was no possible scene of Joshua seeing his knickers on a clothes-rack in front of the fireplace.

Seungcheol found Joshua in the sitting room, and, went to sit down with Jihoon, but, then, he saw why Joshua hadn't.

Oh...shit.

The machine gun he had been cleaning for something to do last night was still lying across the couch.

Oh.

That didn't look good.

Jihoon giggled. "Twat." He told Seungcheol, almost affectionately.

"Sorry, Josh." Seungcheol picked up the machine gun, and, perhaps not much better-minded, just put it on the island bench in the kitchen. Jihoon was still giggling.

"He's not organized crime or one of those redneck...like...those "end of the world people"." Jihoon told Joshua, slumping down onto one of the two dark grey afbric-upholstered couches seat across from one another with a glass coffee table in-between them, and, to the left, the fireplace with the television set on the mantle. Jihoon looked at it and blinked.

"You've been shifting the furniture around?" Jihoon asked. From the right side of the sitting room - shape like a half moon - were two sets of bay windows, and, then, two hallways - one went to the kitchen, dining room, and outdoor area, and the other went to the laundry and bathroom, and, then, upstairs to the third storey where the bedrooms were located. In-between the tall hallway entrances was wall where a cabinet had been - one of the Choi's old blackwood masterpieces that white paint writing still on the front with cast-rion handles, the big draws having once been nests for unexploded grenades, freshly made of the circuit in the factory - with the television on top. Above the mantle was exposed brick from the late 1800's, but, there had been a very, very expensive painting up there.

Last time Jihoon came around anyway.

Seungcheol came in from the kitchen. "Sorry, mate, you said something?" He quipped. Jihoon pointed around the sitting room. Seungcheol scoffed.

"My bloody house." He commented easily, lifting a eyebrow slightly.

"Bitch." Jihoon answered. Seungcheol barked something Joshua didn't understand at Jihoon.

Jihoon automatically was 75% less drunk.

Joshua went to find Seungcheol in the kitchen. He watched Seungcheol started to break down the weapon into parts with skilled, easy practice, his hands moving back and forth, twisting around and easing out the mechanics of the gun. 

"Why are you disassembling it?" Joshua asked. Seungcheol gave him something like a smile.

"When I can't sleep - sometimes I have trouble with that - I build it up..." He gestured to the gun. "And then I pull it apart and start the time-consuming task all over again. Didn't mean to frighten you, sorry about that." Seungcheol told Joshua. "I was too busy trying to remember if my jocks were up on the clothes-horse in front of the fireplace or not."

Joshua grinned. He took a seat at the island bench. "No worries, we're all guys." He observed the gun now in a hundred different pieces in front of him. "That looks really complicated." He remarked.

"Not as complicated as the last fifteen years of your life." Seungcheol found himself saying without really thinking it through. "Guns you can put back together again. Sick human beings are another thing. I could have killed those football cunts that day, but, I was more worried about you. I could have attacked them and you'd have suffocated with your own blood in your lungs, and that'd only prove a point; cunts go on living great lives." Seungcheol rested both his hands on the edge of the island bench and gripped it for a few minutes before turning around and grabbing a sheet of paper-towel off the wooden stool by the kettle to clean lubricant grease for the gun components off of his hands.

Seungcheol found Joshua gazing at him intently. He wondered if he'd put his foot in it.

"Nothing would live if nobody cared." Joshua whispered.

No, he hadn't put his foot in it. The two men were silent for a few moments. The smell of rain came back to the kitchen. Unbeknowest to Seungcheol, for Joshua, the warm, nurturing scent of his cigarette smoke filled up the air.

"Can you feel it?" Seungcheol asked Joshua quietly.

"Feel what?" Joshua echoed.

Seungcheol hesitated before explaining his question. "Feel yourself dying."

"Oh!" A relieved expression came over Joshua's face. Seungcheol didn't quite understand that. Did Joshua expect him to say something else? And, honestly, what could be a more intense question than that? But, Seungcheol supposed, that, indeed, Joshua had had this struggle for the last fifteen years. It was apart of his life. Apart of him. "Yeah." Joshua said softly. "Always." He pushed some of his hair behind his ear, but, the gesture didn't really do anything. "And you know the worst thing?" Joshua eased the words from his throat after a little while, leaning his elbows against the island bench from where he sat at the bar stools and gazing down at all the gun parts laid out neatly, methodically, a practice done many times before.

"No." Seungcheol shook his head a little.

"You can feel it, and you can't do anything about it." Joshua told him. "While it's all happening, the whole world has no idea at all."

Seungcheol barely had a second to think before the sound of "Stay The Night" by James Blunt blared through the house.

Jihoon's reproach to next door's music, which, thankfully, had died down long ago.

But Jihoon was a vengeful little bastard.

And he was at least three quarters pissed.

Suddenly, Joshua burst out laughing. "You two are so cool." He said, his eyes smiling too. "You two were cool back at school, and, you're still cool now you're all grown up."

Seungcheol knew of only question to ask.

"Wanna dance?" He asked, holding out his hands.

Without thinking, Joshua took Seungcheol's hands, grinning. The smell of rain and winter air and delicious cigarette smoke filled up the air as Alpha and Omega, one just drunk and one terminally ill, danced around the kitchen to the music of a British war veteran.

"Because if this is what we've got

Then what we've got is gold

We're shining bright and I want you, I want you to know

The morning's on it's way

Our friends have all said goodbye

There's nowhere else to go 

Bet you'll stay the night 

Oh woah oh oh

You'll stay the night."


	4. CHAPTER THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol gets a rush of renewed hormones and a sense of purpose as he watches Joshua sleep, Seungcheol makes sure Jihoon never finds out about a wild party Soonyoung and Seokmin had where a girl through up in Jihoon's garden, and Seungcheol wonders if Joshua thinks that Seungcheol deserves him or not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The note about the kitchen table...don't get too scandalized. You wouldn't believe the things that people do, honestly :"))
> 
> (Most of which are written in my books)

Jihoon stayed in the spare bedroom on the second floor while Joshua stayed in Seungcheol's bed with Seungcheol on the third floor overnight.

Seungcheol had never slept with someone who was connected up to a oxygen tank before. But, what it meant was that Joshua slept on the right side of the bed on his right side, and had to stay that way all night unless he rolled onto his back, and, Seungcheol knew he woke up a few times throughout the night to make sure he hadn't rolled over onto the silicone tubes.

Seungcheol barely contained himself. To be perfectly honest, he didn't really contain himself. When Joshua was sleeping on his back, Seungcheol turned onto his side, and one of hands hand splayed out across Joshua's skinny, skinny stomach. Seungcheol's hand had slid upwards, and, just by running his fingertips over them, he could count each and every one of Joshua's ribs. It was something both beathtaking and exciting to Seungcheol; he had been in love - proper, life-asserting love - for nearly ten years with this one person who he never quite knew was dead or alive. And, now, he was here. Despite the man that Seungcheol was, he was still a human being. His Father and Grandfather had raised him to be a decent, courteous, strong man that, despite it all, took no one's shit. He wasn't vicious until he was started off, and, then, it had to be something significant. 

Seungcheol wanted Joshua until his skin began to burn and itch, and his insides were unstable. He had had to get up out of bed and away from Joshua before he lost his himself. That was truly the most unforgiveable sin, and, there were just some things you didn't do. Molesting terminally ill people was one of those matters. 

Jihoon was dead asleep in the spare room, sleeping in his underwear obviously, his jeans, socks, shoes and shirt folded up neatly at the end of the bed. A little light on Jihoon's phone was flashing with the alert of text messages, but the alert system was turned onto silent. 

Seungcheol stickey-beaked. It was two of Jihoon's mates and former house-sharers, now, his next-door neighbours. His two mates - Seokmin and Soonyoung - were still at University and renting, whereas Jihoon had never gone for the University path and had just done his own thing. Jihoon in his starting years was on £80,000 a year whereas Seokmin and Soonyoung barely made £10,000 doing their part time jobs around their University. Sharing the house had been good until Jihoon - with his own money - had organized a deposit on a rent to buy basis for Soonyoung and Seokmin, while, he moved out and bought the house next door that went for sale on mortgage. 

Soonyoung was apologising for the loud music and there was another from Seokmin apologising...about the girl vomiting on the grass by Jihoon's letterbox. 

Seungcheol texted them both from Jihoon's phone, saying that Jihoon was around at his house, and, he was going to delete the text messages; what Jihoon didn't know wouldn't compell him to take to Soonyoung and Seokmin with a cast-iron pipe and beat the shit out of them.

We shall build a temple and worship the God, Seungcheol, Soonyoung replied. Seungcheol was halfway through texting them back with a sod off when Seokmin texted him mimicking the same response. 

Seungcheol both told them to bugger off - but have a good night - and he deleted the messages on Jihoon's phone. 

He went back to his own bedroom and had stopped in the doorway. He had kept the lamp on the bedside table on Joshua's side turned on for him so he could check the consumption nozzle on the top of the oxygen tank, and, so that he could see where he was. Seungcheol knew for a fact that Joshua had never stayed in anyone's house before bar his own or his grandparents or the apartment he rented. Seungcheol had really had a catch-up with Joshua. Joshua lived in a large apartment with two other people, Chinese immigrants to Korea, one called Xu Minghao, and the Wen Jun Hui. Junhui was a paramedic and worked long hours, and Minghao was a tailor with his own shop in town. Joshua living with them meant that Junhui could keep an eye on him - Joshua also doing his on-going hospital treatment and check-up's at the hospital where Junhui worked - and, with Junhui's training in medicinal matters, if Joshua got sick, he wasn't by himself. Minghao was completely useless in that respect, but, it was he who convinced Joshua's parents to let him get his own place and try and live a normal life even though he didn't have one.

The trouble was, Seungcheol didn't know if Joshua staying here was his very first time.

It could be likely.

Joshua was lying on his back again, one hand resting on his stomach, the other laying on the bed beside his body but hanging off the edge slightly. His head was tipped to the side, and, the orange-gold lamp-light caught the shape of his lips, the cupids bow, his nose, the thick fan of his eyelashes, his jaw-line, and, the inner edges of his eyebrows, little shadows pooling thick and sweet across the tops of his eyes. His head was slightly messy, but, it was largely like it was earlier.

You're beautiful, Seungcheol thought. But does a person like you look at me and then think that someone like me deserves you?

Now the morning, everyone was getting up. When Jihoon had woken up at a quarter to nine - Seungcheol and Joshua only been awake fifteen minutes before - Jihoon said he was going to have "a long fucking soak under this shower and in the meanwhile could you do a massive bowl of your Dad's fried rice? I'm starving and I've got something with that, I swear".

"I think he's still drunk." Joshua commented to Seungcheol. He had just taken his tablets with a mug of green tea, and, he had just made himself a second one. Seungcheol asked him if he'd like any rice, beginning to cut off the heads of the bean sprouts to be thrown into the wok with the peas. "Small, small amount." Joshua said. "I don't want to be hurling in your cool house."

Seungcheol chuckled softly. "Wouldn't matter if you did." He told Joshua. Even first thing in the morning, Joshua looked stunning. "Next door concieved their baby on my kitchen table."

Joshua choked on his tea. "You have got to be kidding me?!" He exclaimed before he burst out laughing. 

Seungcheol shook his head. "I am not." He said. "That table got delivered by accident to their house, and, after putting it together, they decided to roll about on it, thinking it was theirs. I found out seven months after."

"Which end?" Joshua asked with a straight face, but, it didn't last. The two men lost the plot completely, Seungcheol laughing this time as well. They stopped abruptly as Joshua had a coughing fit, and, suddenly, bloodied phelgm came out into his palm and a bit dripped down his wrist onto the knee of his jeans. Seungcheol rushed for the same paper towel and ripped off four sheets at once.

"I'm alright." Joshua managed to get out as he coughed, mopping his hands and mouth and dapping at the spot on his jeans.

A few seconds after, another course of events happened. Joshua's index fingertip slid into his mouth and came away wet with spit before he rubbed it over the knee of his jeans where the blood was.

It was one of the most arousing things Seungcheol had ever seen.

"I learned that from Hao," Joshua explained, blushing slightly. Seungcheol thought Joshua would never leave the number one spot on his list of "best things ever seen". The only thing that rivaled Joshua's entire being and the memory of him was one day when the army had come on a acquiztion mission to the Choi's yard, five commanders, thirteen soldiers, and a air-force squadron leader with ten government officials had been chased away by Seungcheol's possible-future-sister-in-law with a cricket bat and five of their German Shepard guard dogs. "If he's making a wedding dress and he's doing bead work on it and stabs his finger with the needle - he can't be getting blood on the dress can he? There's enzymes in your spit that eat it all up, I suppose is how you say it."

A few seconds later, Seungcheol peered at Joshua's knee.

All the blood was gone.

It was almost freakish but Seungcheol was too high.

A minute or so later, Jihoon came downstairs in just his jeans and a shirt which wasn't the one he was wearing yesterday. It had a Russian-language sentence written across the chest in thick, black, Slavic letters. Jihoon's hair was still a bit wet.

He barely came into the kitchen before halting stiffly. "What the fuck is going on?" He said. He looked between Seungcheol and Joshua.

Seungcheol started to wonder if Joshua's cancer medication, the oxygen tank, and interrupted sleep last night had dulled off his sense. Seungcheol - having been knocked out of the sight of Joshua's mouth and - enough, enough, enough. Seungcheol could sense too what Jihoon was overwhelmed by.

Rain. So much rain. The scent of been caught in the middle of a Winter storm somewhere romantic and dreamily iconic like the British or the Danish countryside, peat wild-grasses and dirt roads and acorn forests. 

Like a flood unleashed on the Earth.

Seungcheol thought of how he had touched Joshua's hip-bones and ribs last night and imperceptibly shivered with utter, utter shame and regret at doing what he had to someone who was as sick as Joshua was, and, Christian as well. Seungcheol hated Christians, if he was honest, because it was always fucking Christians causing a problem. But, no way on Earth was he having Joshua hate him for not being one of them, for not seemingly bowing down to them.

And, then, his own scent. Raw and alive and dizzying, a pagan bonfire at the winter harvests. Raging and burning, unable to stop. Too hot to handle, burning the air around him until the fire's luminesence in the oxygen surrounding spread for miles and miles. The same fire burned through the countryside that Joshua's rain fell down on, but, who canceled out who? Did the fire burn on brightly even with the rain, the raindrops however heavy they might be turning to evaporated steam as soon as they hit the flames directly or even before they hit the fire? Or, did the rain wash out the bonfire, reducing it down to sodden, coal-like remains, embers not even allowed to live as without the fire, the Earth became colder. The rain turned to snow, but, it was not snow that covered the ground, it was grey and white ash from the fire, spreading, spreading around, down...

Seungcheol was mesmerised.

"Oh my God, Josh..." Jihoon dived for Joshua. 

Seungcheol nearly had a heart-attack.

What the fuck was wrong with him? These dreamlike states, these - he had no idea what was happening.

He had no idea that Joshua's eyes had drunkenly, unconciously slipped down to half-lids and blood poured from his nose, and his skin had gone the same tone that the ash covering the surface of Seungcheol's mind. The breakfast that Jihoon had hoped for was barely even started, let alone ready to be served, and, more importantly, a simple, simple, simply fact - completely insignificant but sort of meaningful - came to play truthfully in Seungcheol's mind.

Choi men were absolutely hopeless where illness was concerned.


	5. CHAPTER FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshua thinks about his night with Seungcheol as he writes songs for the band he works with who recently lost the long term lover of their drummer to suicide and Minghao sleeps in his bed. Joshua remembers the time he nearly got into a sexual relationship with Junhui to "Chocolate" by The 1975 and how his heats genuinely nearly kill him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a slowed down version of Heather by Conan Gray with rain pouring down in the background; it's so beautiful, and, honestly, so much nicer than the official recording

Joshua sat up in his bed, connected to a fresh oxygen tank in his pyjamas with Minghao asleep in his bed beside him. Joshua had passed out only a few minutes after the nose-bleed had started at Seungcheol's house. Even though he couldn't help it, Joshua was utterly humiliated by his failing - constantly failing - body. It had all got too much. The vibe - if you would - had all gotten too much. His blood pressure had risen gently at first in his body before sky-rocketing after a night of sleep had gone in what felt like five minutes rather than eight hours. Joshua knew he had woken up at least five times to check his cords, but, he couldn't remember actually doing it after the second or third time. He was sure he wasn't dreaming. On either the fourth or the fifth time, he needed for elevation, a second pillow, and, Seungcheol had got up to get him one from the linen cupboard before arranging it under his head for him. Once his blood pressure had gone up there had been sharp but inconsistent palpitations in his chest and ribs that he had been able to ignore though disconcerting, but, suddenly, after a while, they were stabbing him everytime he inhaled and exhaled. His vision had swam, his sight going black and then not black like the fall of night, before, the sickly dark red liquid cooly had pooled in the cupids bow of his mouth's upper lip. Joshua remembered dread rushing through him at that horrible feeling of blood leaking of his nose.

Joshua wasn't angry at Seungcheol. Goodness, the man was a sight for sore eyes, a being brighter than the moonlight.

And he seemed so mesmerized with his life.

Joshua smiled to himself softly. 

He swore he could have felt Seungcheol touch his hip and his ribs a few times throughout the night.

Joshua didn't mind. It was just the usual thing; feeling his heartbeat without waking him up, sensing the temperature of his body, making sure his chest was rising and falling his breath, the underlying sense of blood rushing through his veins. Even when he was seventeen, his Father used to check on him in the middle of the night.

Joshua thought it was kind of Seungcheol as a human being to feel compelled enough to look after him, even though Joshua could have managed by himself in the spare room. Sometimes, Joshua swore he still felt Seungcheol's mouth on his, hands thumping his ribs up and down, trying to give him breathing, stop him suffocating, that day at school when he nearly died.

Joshua blushed slightly. It had been CPR, not anything else. He couldn't do anything else, anyway.

Joshua got the notebook he wrote things in and opened it up, a pen at the ready, tucked away in the open spine of the notebook. Joshua worked at the Pledis music company with Jihoon writing songs for artists who could perform but were struggling. Joshua had been assigned to a Indie-inclined group who were very sad, the whole band having been rocked recently by the suicide death of their drummer/producer's long-term girlfriend who used to come in and play the violin for some of their previous songs.

Nearly all of the group were betas, except the drummer/producer, who was an Alpha, and, the keyboardist/synthesist/pianist who was a omega. Jihoon didn't know about this, and, Joshua wasn't going to mention it to him, either. The drummer's long-term girlfriend had been a omega too, and, even though she had been a girl, she had a similar rain-scent to Joshua. She smelt like a storm out of sea, when he really thought about it. The first thing Joshua had done was gone and hugged the drummer.

The girl had died over the weekend last. Joshua didn't want to go in working with them as an ignorant prick, but, he knew that even if he hadn't made that effort, with his bloody nose and lips and weak lungs and his oxygen take and his underweight body, they would have picked him to have been part of that same world, that same understanding, that same lack of life. Joshua hadn't frozen up, but, he had gone still as the drummer's nose pressed against his neck. Even though Joshua put on a spray each morning to cover up his rain scent, emotional turmoil could make Alpha instincts stronger.

"You smell like rain, too." The drummer had mumbled. "Like countryside rain."

Joshua had scrubbed off the cover-up scent as soon as he could at lunch-time. When he had come back in, he knew there was a bit of his own body but not much. Even though it might be regarded as silly by others, the drummer didn't seem so sad.

No one, in full honesty, could find out about the drummer's girlfriend's death. Everyone would forget he was a human being and that she was also a human being. 

They would just carry on until the cows came home.

Joshua's pen scratched gently over the notebooks paper. He glanced at Minghao in his bed beside him. Minghao hadn't wanted to leave him by himself. "I'm self-employed, trust me, I can do whatever the fuck I want." Minghao had told him when Joshua had started to worry about his tailoring business further in the city.

Their apartment was the third one off the ground in a old-world style architecture from the early 1990's. It was neat and tidy, functional and well-kept. Very early 1990's inside, but, they were all happy. Very happy. Joshua, Minghao and Junhui.

I still detest you

From the ninth of November

I couldn't remember

That you wouldn't choose me

I know you better but this is never easy

I didn't want to come across as sleazy but I can't find it within me

To go

I don't want to leave you

But why would you ever kiss him?

He's not even half as cool, I

Don't understand why you couldn't stay with me

Why choose a boy that's so down from topping fools?

Sad eyes

Sad Lies

Sad bye's

On my life

Joshua considered what he had just written. The band needed sad songs, but, none of them were keen writers. Joshua knew than none of them wanted to write; they were proud, strong men, and talking about how horrific and worried about their drummer they felt inside and then publishing to the world was something they couldn't come out. So, they kept their heads down and played their guitars, messed around on stage, drank, smoked, and kept out of their Drummer's way. It was hopeless, really. The Drummer was just quiet.

And, in a way, that was the most frightening thing; a strong, happy, alpha man with a wicked sense of humor and a gorgeous smile just settled down quiet.

No wonder they were all mesermised into silence.

Joshua knew to write something that was sad, but, wasn't too personal to them. Something that matched the feelings they felt inside, but, didn't explicitly show.

Minghao stirred in Joshua's bed beside him. His Chinese eyes opened and gazed up with a soft-focus intensity at him. They didn't have to say anything to each other. Both of them just knew certain things about each other. 

"Who was that guy you were with?" Minghao asked him in Korean. Joshua hesitated, but, it wasn't as though he didn't wnat to tell Minghao, he was just thinking of the right way to say it.

"I went to school with Seungcheol as well as Jihoon. I hadn't seen Seungcheol for years, and, he ended up coming around to see us. We had a bit of a night-out, and we stayed overnight at his place. Seungcheol saved my life, a few years ago. I had collapsed earlier that day and Seungcheol did CPR on me. It was a really big thing." Joshua didn't add the other details. "I never really knew him at school, but, I never really knew anyone either. He was always a nice enough guy, though. He used to play football, but, he stopped doing that."

"Why?"

Joshua shook his head. He didn't want to say that Seungcheol had given up football when he had seen the guys he used to run around with playing a game while Joshua died on the ground.

"Just grew out of it, I guess." Joshua gave a crooked smile. "A lot of footballers are award-winning dickheads, anyway."

Minghao smiled. Joshua was briefly mesmerised. Minghao was a beta, but Junhui was an Alpha. It was never a problem. Junhui never did anything untoward, even if he did get a bit dreamy-eyed around Joshua if Joshua was having a very happy day and kept laughing, tiny, tiny spikes of his winter rain scent coming out into the air, and a little bit possessive when they went out. Joshua knew part of it was his bodies illness, but, he always knew when to watch Junhui.

Junhui wouldn't not ever explode. He had a female paramedic he worked with on most shifts. In nearly every ambulance now, if there was to be a female paramedic, there had to be a male paramedic to help protect her when they had to attend suicide scenes, drug overdoses scenes, pub fight scenes, domestic violence situations, in case family, patients of bystanders attacked her. One day, they were attending a drug overdoes in a hotel room, and, the patient had tried to strangle one of the female paramedics.

To put it politely, Junhui broke his nose, cheekbone, and stomped his head into the toilet of the hotel room.

Junhui had never made a forceful move on him, but, there had once been a time when they had nearly got into a sexual relationship. 

It had actually been after one of Joshua's once-a-year-heats - joys of been very, very ill - and Joshua had been wandering around in the kitchen in his pyjama pants and a shirt. Joshua could never have thanked Minghao and Junhui enough. Actual sex to relieve the heat was out of the question. Junhui was too busy trying to stop Joshua having a heart-attack as his blood pressure had gone up, and he began to have a heart attack.

Joshua had ended up being taken to the hospital and had put into a sedatived state for three days, while, unbeknowest to him, all shit hit the roof as far as his health went. Joshua had been in hospital for another four days before he had been allowed to come home.

He had just put the kettle on the boil - at least half ten at night - when Junhui had come over to him and had slipt his arms around Joshua's thin, underweight body. Another friend of there's had visited earlier that day, and, he had left a vinyl record with them. The sound of "Chocolate" by The 1975 filled up the apartment, but it wasn't loud enough to intrude on the peace of the neighbours below.

"Old lady broke her leg, but, jeez, she was wicked." Junhui half grinned into Joshua's hair. "She said that she had a lovely granddaughter for me if I wasn't married."

Joshua had laughed. "She sounds lovely."

"I'm going to take her some flowers tomorrow, she was so jolly." Junhui rested his head against Joshua's. "What's that song?"

Joshua told him.

Tentaively, Junhui begin to boogy Joshua around the kitchen. "I reckon I like this." Junhui had said to Joshua. Joshua's rain scent filled up the apartment, and, now Junhui's earthy scent - the scent of been in the woodland mountains of Gyreonsang - filled up the apartment like some sort of pagan dream. Joshua had rested his head into the crook of Junhui's shoulder and neck, feeling the mountain scent of Junhui's skin fill him up inside and make him happily dizzy. 

Junhui had kissed him. Simple as that. It hadn't been a long kiss. Joshua was having one of his rare days where he didn't need to be an oxygen tank, and, Junhui didn't want to wreck out Joshua's rare state of comfortable normalcy.

Joshua's fingertips had touched Junhui's chest, Junhui still just in his work trousers and a grey t-shirt, and had gazed up at him.

It had started.

One of Junhui's hands had gone to the small of Joshua's back and the other hand's fingertips wrapped around Joshua's jaw and held it tightly as Junhui pulled him in closer.

"JUN, GET OFF OF HIM!"

Suddenly, Minghao - who had been working late as well at his business - rushed into the kitchen and proceeded to beat Junhui up over the head with a rolled up edition of the Sunday Telegraph and called him everything under the sun.

"Josh, you right?" Minghao checked with him breathlessly. Joshua nodded, having had to go and lean against the island bench in the kitchen. His head had fallen down, partly out of shock, but out of the happiness flooding through his veins. He could sense Junhui on a level that was utterly extroadinairy, and, how right was it?

Winter rain and mountain-sides?

Minghao shouted for what seemed like eight hours in Mandarin to Jun, and, still occasionally hit him with the newspaper throughout the foreign-languaged rant. 

Joshua didn't leave the room all the while.

That had been five months ago.

A line floated around in Joshua's head all the while he talked to Minghao.

Just one single glimpse of you when you leave

He thought that as soon as he possibly could politely, he'd ring the band and ask them what they thought.


	6. CHAPTER FIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol feels he gets shot through the heart when he's reminded of his Grandfather's sentence tattoo when he was in a Japanese Concentration Camp due to refusing orders on the Thai Burma Railway, and, Seungcheol is reminded how much he loves working at his families factories and yards. He checks in with Jihoon about Joshua, and can't stop thinking about him as he re-arranges his sitting room, so Jihoon can never notice he's hiding something again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this book and wondering, "Why did the sodding bitch call it You Give Love A Bad Name? Wasn't that a Bon Jovi song?" It will start to become apparent over the next few chapters, particularly through Joshua and Seungcheol's relationship and their backgrounds

Seungcheol's Grandfather had a number tattoo on his forearm from when he had been in a Japanese concerntration camp when he had refused to cooperate with being a guard on the Thai Burma Railway. Seungcheol had started thinking about it when the old man had rolled up his sleeves and had got his youngest grandchild to help him move parts for a Reichanbacher engine they had had since 1936. He had refused to kill any of the captured British Soliders that were being staved and tortured to death, dying of hard labour. The Japanese normally would have tortured him to death, but, his Father was one half of the Choi Brothers, the biggest vehicle, ammunition and tank manufacturers and wreckers on the Asian Continent. The Japanese had never bought - and would never be sold - any of the Choi Family equipment. The Choi's had sided with China's Allied Forces agreement, and in their factories, melted down metal that was made into weapons that got sent via the railways to the Russian Army. Every commander had been told to not kill the "Choi man". Becuase, when the war ended, and, at that point, the Japanese realized they were beginning to lose, the Choi's would influence the next Labour Party Government along with the Allies on it's run to have all the Japanese people in the world killed. The Americans had already dropped the Nagasaki and the Hirsohima bombs. And the air-force pilots would happily drop more. When Seungcheol's Father had been fourteen, he had met the American pilot who had dropped the Hirsohima bomb. "Ask me what it felt like!" The old man had said to Seungcheol's Father. Seungcheol's Father had asked him how it felt. "I want to drop a hundred of them!" The old American had exclaimed. "Kill that maggoty fucking race!"

Seungcheol sometimes observed his country-people and wondered if they realized that the world knew over the one opinion, this one opinion about Korean people. It was nothing about their food or kingdoms or music scenes.

Every Anglo-Saxon man and woman knew this one remark made by the survivors of the Thai Burma Railway.

"The Korean guards were always the worst."

Seungcheol sometimes looked at other Korean people and thought that, indeed, they deserved to be hated. He never regarded himself as one of them. They had been on the right side, anyway, during the War. To this day, the descendants of the Russian commanders and special operations groups that had come to their factories in Seoul - they all still knew each other.

Those were the sort of bonds that lasted for the rest of time.

And nearly no-one in the world had the naturalism, intelligence, depth, and animalism to understand such a thing. They were all just weak and retarded goody-two-shoes.

Seungcheol felt himself edging into a bad mood, so, he called Jihoon. It was Jihoon's lunch-break about now, anyhow.

"He's definitely alright, right?" Seungcheol asked about Joshua. As soon as Jihoon had picked up his call, Jihoon had started about that.

"Cheol, why don't you just ring him? You have his number." Jihoon answered.

"What? Do I?" Seungcheol's eyes widened. He truly had not known that.

"Yeah, when we were all sozzled the other day, he put it in for you because I told him too." Jihoon reminded him.

"Your inner Alpha needs to stop bossing around Omegas." Seungcheol remarked drily.

"You slept with him." Jihoon said back, and Seungcheol imagined the look in his eyes; they were joking, but, the gaze, daring to bring it on, always came between the two of them. Jihoon suddenly became quiet, and it went on for a minute. "Please tell me -" Jihoon quickly asked. Seungcheol nearly fell over from the shock and the echoing "no, no, no, no, no!"'s in his skull.

"Jihoon, for fucks sake, did he really look like that had happened?" Seungcheol quickly said. The irony was, even though Jihoon was on the start of a wrong idea, it made Seungcheol burn inside. God! He wished he had been able to have sex with Joshua. He wished he'd been able to. But, it hadn't gone like that. It nearly made Seungcheol furious.

"You're vain." Seungcheol heard the quirk in Jihoon's voice.

Seungcheol flushed darkly and closely. "Oh, shut up." He said.

"And you're wasting my lunch break." Jihoon signaled ending the call.

"Well, sod off, then." Seungcheol accidentally snapped.

Seungcheol hung up the line, beating Jihoon by a fraction of a second. An hour later, his guilt got to him. He knew he had been too harsh. He texted Jihoon, saying sorry.

I know you're a masochist cunt, some of the time, Jihoon responded.

Seungcheol smiled.

The rest of his day at work was good. He mainly helped the workers move things around, and, he helped do the afternoon tea rounds. The afternoon tea round at the Choi's yard was downright iconic. All of the workers, 30% of them mix-raced to some point - Korean-Japanese, Korean-Russian, Korean-Ukranian, Korean-British, Korean-Chinese, Korean-Thai - drank double-strength builder's black tea out of sterilized steel cans that had had nails and screws in them with four sugars and no milk. Every tin had the worker's name written in white-wash or black sharpie marker on the side, and, it was a truly momentous event, considering that they employed 880 people.

"You should never find work hard, tiring." His Father said to him. "It should be fun."

And, honestly, Seungcheol did find it fun. He loved his families yard. He knew his Father was getting old, and, maybe he hadn't quite been a natural to it like his Father and Grandfather were. Like the way his son was. Seungcheol sometimes wondered if his Grandfather was happy at the fact that at least one of his grandchildren had vibrantly and happily taken to running the yard.

When Seungcheol came home later that night, he stopped.

He could have sworn blind that he had smelt rain. He did two things at once; he half looked around for Joshua, or, what would be the remains of him, and, then, looked outside the windows to see, indeed, a overcast sky, but, not a rain-filled one at this point in time.

Seungcheol sighed, and knew that, to a point, he was becoming renewedly obsessed with Joshua Hong. He went into his room and got the box of ancient vinyl records out from beneath his bed. He took them into the sitting room, and, put on to play on the gramophone while he considered his sitting room.

Jihoon didn't know, but, it was really, really bad that he had noticed it enough to wonder.

Shit.

Jihoon had been right. There had been a very expensive painting above the mantle with the television on one of the old grenade cabinets. 

Behind the brick wall was a series of things that Seungcheol wanted no one to know about. Behind the painting were the subtle cracks in the grouting work of the brickwork. Seungcheol listened to the recordings of Slavic Pagan poeziya recorded in the 1920's by his Great-Grandfather's older brother when he had traveled to Russia for what in modern days would now be a gap year, and, frankly, had the time of his life. Though the vinyl was scratched and crackled with age, the animalistic and harmonious vocalizations and screams and shouts and ancient Russian language song with drums mimicking heartbeats flew out none too loudly into the rain-scented air of his apartment as he worked. Seungcheol began to wonder if he was just sensing the clouds aside, knowing what was to come, or, if, his was just imagining things. There was something hot and alive burning within his bones though at the thought that Joshua been been in his house - in his bed, for God's sake!

And how Seungcheol had been able to touch him, just that little bit...

It came over him like a wave, renewed and fresh and bright. Seungcheol just felt utterly warm.

In love.

He was going to have to do something about it, but, then, there was the Christian problem.

It was always fucking Christians, wasn't it?

Seungcheol relaxed afterwards on the right-hand-side of the south-set couch in his sitting room, looking out the bay window at the other side of the half-moon shaped room. He smoked, a original Art-Deco crystal ash-tray - one that had been his Great-Grandfather's favourite, given to him by his Father when he moved into his own house - on the arm of the couch by his side.

Without really thinking about it, just enjoying the moent to himself, so soft-focusly intense that it washed Seungcheol away but still kept him alive, he murmured singingly a song under his breath.

"But I watch your eyes as she walks by

What a sight for sore eyes

Brighter than the blue skies

She's got you mesmerized

While I die...

Why would you ever kiss me?

I'm not even half as pretty

You gave me your sweater

It's jsut polyester

But you like her better

Wish I were Heather..."

One of the cities old-breed free nightingale birds flew past the window, and, Seungcheol's eyes slid to look up at the ceiling, and, he wondered if this what his Mother felt like, when she used to listen to her Amy Winehouse records before she died.


	7. CHAPTER SIX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every single one of the boys has a very bad day; Seungcheol's families yard and factories get broken into resulting in two shooting deaths, Junhui has to attend the scene of a woman who died in childbirth, Minghao did £40,000 of labour and won't get paid, Joshua gets re-diagnosed with blood cancer, Jihoon gets beaten up at work, and, the roof - which contains asbestos - on Soonyoung and Seokmin's rented house next door to Jihoon's collapses after heavy rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of drama in this chapter, but, I did intend for this to be a deep-focus work. It becomes more intense and significant as time moves on

The next time Joshua saw Seungcheol was five weeks later, when, they quite legitimately had a fucking massive problem.

Everyone had a problem.

Seungcheol, Junhui, Minghao, Joshua, Jihoon, Seokmin and Soonyoung.

Everyone they could think off had a problem.

For Seungcheol, a couple od drug addicts had broken into the yard and had got their hands on some knives and had tried to kill the night-time security staff. The result was that two drug addicts now no longer walked the earth, having been shot in their heads by the security staff. They were ex-servicemen, and had done everything else possible to stop the attack, but, when one of the security guards had had his face slashes with the dirty, filthy fucking knife one of the drug addicts carried, the guns had been drawn. Everything was going on. Media crews with hastily dolled-up journalists to present in front of the camera, policemen, SOCO forensics teams, ambulances, and, then, the local attention.

Fucking great.

For Junhui, things were just as horrific.

A single woman had gone into labour in her home, and, had suffered pre eclampsia. There had been no one to help her, and, she had no phone, the thing having been getting fixed for a cracked screen after she dropped it only a few days before when getting out of her car.

Both the woman and her baby were dead. The Father was unknown, and, her family had disowned her. They soon found out why.

The still-born baby when birthed from the woman's corpse was half-Sudanese. 

The woman wasn't even twenty-five.

A similar scene at the Choi's yard unfolded at the street where Junhui had been called to, but, this street was full of 1980's commission houses that had been sold off by the government to yuppies and fixer-upper couples in the last couple of years. Though the houses were cream brick and ghastly, every singal home in the street had a neat lawn and facade. It was soon full of creeping media, policemen, a second ambulance, local attention, and, a government-sponsered funeral directors.

It was soon found out that she had met the baby's Father through been at University in Australia, and the Father had been a refugee, granted asylum into Australia. He worked as a fire-fire, and, all had gone well, an absolute heaven, until he was burned to death trying to save people's homes in the 2019 horror bushfire season. The girl had come back to Korea to be with her family, but, when they found out who the Father of her baby was, they cut themselves and everything else in the Universe away from her, and completely abandoned her.

The female paramedic that Junhui nearly always worked with, Millie, cuddled tightly into his side in the paramedic station at their inner city hospital and sobbed into his neck as he held her and rocked her back and forth slightly, feeling absolutely horrible himself.

Minghao had it a bit less worse, but, in the eyes of everyone else, it would be seen as worse.

There was a high-end wedding he had done tailoring for, the work a five month process and the bill at a reasonable - quite reasonable - £40,000. Not only had he made the brides dress, the brides mother's dress, the groom's mother's dress, the bridesmaids dress, he had always made the suits for the groom, best man, and grooms father, he had made the clothes for the 798 guests that had come to the wedding. And between all the tantrums, order changes, weight gain, weight loss, readjustment and general chaos, £40,000 was absolutely the fucking pick.

And, now, he wasn't going to be paid. They were refusing to pay him. Not even a single pound.

To put it politely, Minghao was absolutely fucking furious. 

Joshua wasn't having an easy time either. He had gone for his session at the oncology department at the hospital, and, during an MRI, the worst possible news came back. Though there were no visible cancer tumors reproducing themselves back in the spots where they had previously targeted, the cancer had begun a growth and hormone stimulation process. One of the cancer complications he had had when he was a teenager, and, then again in his early twenties, was blood cancer.

Joshua was terrified. He had been in remission for the last two years, but, with the permanently-ill state of his internal organs and the sugeries that had no choice but to change his body in certain ways, he was always going to have that positive diagnosis stamp on his files, which had to be at least twenty inches thick by now.

"Does that mean I have to back on the cancer medication?" He asked his long-term oncologist, Doctor Mao-Tang, a now middle-aged Chinese man. Joshua remembered the horrible side effects, and, just how awful it had been.

So awful he wished he could just die.

"Not at this moment, Josh." Mao-Tang told him. "But, we want to keep an eye on it." He carefully took in Joshua's underweight body and shadowed eyes and horrified expression. "But we do want some blood tests, and, we want you to stop taking all medication for the next two days." Mao-Tang imperceptibly took in a deep breath before he told Joshua. "We're not going to do radiation or chemotherapy this time." He smiled. "We want to trial you on a new medication; it's very simply. A injection three times a week. Not like the usual cancer drugs; it won't give you vomiting, other stomach troubles from the other end, mood swings, elevated blood pressure, weakness. The only side effect is comes with is that it does alter resperatary function." Mao-Tang gave Joshua some time to think.

"How does it do that?"

"Because with the injection treatment, re-creating the partial-tracheotomy we made for your throat and chest when you were nineteen would be advisable." Mao-Tang explained. "Because we had to take out some of your glands and your part of your adam's apple because cancers were growing in and on them, it's affected the way you breathe, which is why you need the assisted oxygen. And, with this new injection, because it's only side effect is that it brings a slight distress on the respiratory system, to create more space in your respatory system..." Mao-Tang found himself lost for a way to explain, and gestured with his hands.

"I understand." Joshua said. "Are you sure that there are no other side effects than breathing?"

"That's what I'm trying to explain, forgive me, Joshua." Mao-Tang said. "We want to re-open the tracheotomy so we can shift the stent we put inside your throat, because, with your breathing affected, it affects the oxygen content in your blood going to your organs. Without it you will very quickly distinergrate, and the medication you are on now won't be able to help you in anyway."

Joshua nodded. "Is it a day surgery?" he asked.

Mao-Tang nodded. "I'd like to get you in in two days time."

Joshua nodded. "No worries, Mao-Tang."

While Joshua was at his oncology appointment, Jihoon was today handling the recording production for the indie band that Joshua worked with. 

Things hadn't gone so well.

He had nearly gotten strangled by the Alpha drummer after accidentally throwing open a door and nearly hitting his year-and-a-half old God-daughter who - unbeknowest to Jihoon - had been crawling around on the floor under the watchful gaze of the band while her Mother visited the bathrooms.

Who on the Earth would knowingly hit a child with a door anyway? That had been the main argument as his beta bandmates had raced over to pull him off the very small Jihoon, including one of them having to hit the Alpha drummer with one of the bass guitars violently while the omega keyboardist picked up the little baby from the floor and took her out of the recording studios altogether. 

Then there was Seokmin and Soonyoung's hassles, which, could just be seen as the worst materially, even though the Choi's now had a murder investigation on their hands practically.

The roof of their house had collapsed, and, unbeknownst to them, their house had abestos fibre content.

A fairly wonderful day for everyone all around.

Minghao was breathing hard, having just been drawing a solicitor in to see how he could get his money. Minghao felt himself settle down by the millisecond as he saw Joshua's name flash up on his screen. "Hey, Josh." Minghao said, and, he was truly astonished in his being, at how light and free he sounded considering every second word had been "cunt" only a few minutes before.

"In two days I have to go to the Day Surgery hospital to have my tracheotomy re-opened." Joshua told him simply, frankly. "The cancer cells are starting to make a re-appearence, so, Doctor Mao-Tang wants to take me of all and every medication I'm on at the moment and transfer me to these new injections treatment for six weeks instead of having to go back on the cancer drugs and the chemotherapy like I had to a couple of years ago."

Minghao nearly dropped his phone. Oh God. Oh no.

"Hao? Are you still there? Please say something...don't get upset, please. I didn't mean to upset you. I just had to tell you because it needs to get organized."

"Where are you now?" Minghao asked, willing for his throat not to close up tightly and strangedly.

"Just getting a cab back to our place. Don't tell Junhui until he gets home."

"Ok." Minghao agreed. He felt sick with worry inside. "Are you ok?" He asked.

Joshua was silent for a moment too long before saying he was.

Minghao knew better. He knew Joshua wasn't alright.

When he arrived home, it seemed he was the third and last. Junhui was half asleep on the couch in the sitting room when Joshua had come home. The sad rain scent on Joshua's skin had made Junhui's inner animal come to the surface, wanting to protect him. Joshua lay in-between Junhui's legs, his head on Junhui's chest and his back against Junhui's stomach. Both had asked why the other was home early. Junhui hadn't directly told Joshua. Joshua didn't need to have his day wrecked by how disgustingly human beings behaved. Unbeknowest to Junhui until a few minutes later, nothing in full honesty could have made Joshua's day any worse. Joshua told Junhui all about his day.

"What time do you have to be at the day surgery?" Junhui asked.

"Five 'o' clock in the evening so I've got my work day sorted."

"How about you apply for some time off?" Junhui suggested to him, his stomach and his abdomen beginning to ache sharply and brightly, but, the the weight of Joshua's bony, skinny body on his dulled it off ever so slightly.

"No, absolutely not, I barely got the job as it is, I only thought I got it because pity was taken on me and I've got a pretty face and even with the tank I can do the job." Joshua replied instantly. Junhui wrapped his arms around Joshua's body, and, Joshua felt compelled to tell Junhui something.

"I had this funny dream last night." Joshua said.

"Did you dream that you were going to get this news today?" Junhui quipped.

"No, it was different from that." Joshua's brows furrowed slightly. "I was in someone's sitting room and it was the blue hour - either early morning or early dusk - and someone was singing a really nice song...but it was all soft. Things like that. And there was some sort of night-bird that went across the window..." Joshua shrugged.

"Your Mamma would say it's the devil speaking to you." Junhui told Joshua. They laughed, and, together, they watched the four 'o' clock afternoon news.

"We begin tonight's program with a violent burgulary at the Choi Trading and Manufacturing Company tonight where two substance-effect burglers attempted to create a siege, and were killed by gun-shots by evening security staff shortly after." The female news-reader with her ulzzang face created by botox and make-up and clever camera trickery disguising her nearly been forty-five years old from stupid viewers who would complain they were watching a dog read the news, not a intelligent, well-spoken woman, who, indeed, was getting older and should not be ashamed of it.

Joshua's mouth came open, feeling like someone had body-slammed him while Junhui whistled under his breath.

"I need to call Jihoon!" Joshua exclaimed nearly shrilly, diving out of Junhui's arms just as Minghao came through their front door. "Oh my - fucking Seungcheol!"


	8. CHAPTER SEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol takes a deep and vicious dive back into his past where as a ten year old child he was threatened with rape and murder by a armed intruder and was saved by their oldest and most loyal worker and friend, Ivan Morova. Seungcheol falls into a heat with Joshua but then is cruelly turned off when Joshua's ignorance to what the consequences of the real world are to Seungcheol come into play. Seungcheol catches up with the Slavic Pagan wives of the workers who hilariously scare the shit out of the media, and, Seungcheol has a lovely moment with his Grandfather, a man intensely young at heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this not horror, but an insight into very dark depths of human behaviour. This is the sort of things that no one gets taught in school; in any point of view, the first half of this chapter is disconcerting and disturbing, but, from a naturalism point of view, it's God. This is what I write for; what I write about. Step into your skin? I'd rather jump in your bones

Seungcheol didn't home for work until one 'o' clock that next morning. His Father and Grandfather were doing their nuts. "Those sub-human scum needed to fuck die and we're been held liable for supposed unnessecary death even though one of our guards faces is now mutilated and they were threatened to be killed?!" Seungcheol's Father had raged at the police before eighty of their total eight-hundred-and-eighty workers turned up with guns and lengths of chain in tow. The police knew to get out of the scene now the bodies had been taken away and the media had had their fill. Even though the workers were picking a animalistic fight out of protection for their work and the family that employed them, their superindentant contacted some of the police for the first time in their young careers and told them that it is known better than to be foolish enough to trouble the Choi's when they were so significant, and they ruled such a big stick. Seungcheol knew that this would stick with some of the police forever, but, there was no need for them to behave the way they did. Fuck a murder investigation. How many times had this happened over the years? Robbers coming in and screaming to be given money and then been dealt with? What was the fucking point in creating a fuss when innocent, loved people died everyday and the day that two cunts died, oh, no, they were absolute angels? Seungcheol grew even more angry, and, he wouldn't not say that the sight of their workers - particularly the ones with mixed Serbian and Slavic heritage - had come out with animalistic pride and danger to protect them. A robbery like this had happened when Seungcheol was ten, but, no one had found out about it like this case had been. When Seungcheol had been ten - the one that had happened to him then - no one had ever known about that one. Seungcheol had just been playing with the guard dogs puppies in the back of one of the storage sheds on the yard, and someone had broken in, looking for money. They had seen Seungcheol and threatened to rape him, kill him. They seized a metal crow bar and had chased Seungcheol around with it. All of a sudden, one of their oldest workers, a half-russian-half-korean man by the name of Ivan Morova stepped out with a axe and proceeded to chop the robber up alive into fourteen pieces. The 65-year-old man had gently shooed away the guard dog's puppies who had come over to sniff the body parts and lick at the blood on the dirty concrete ground. Covered in blood himself, Ivan had found Seungcheol so young and crying and terrified, hiding beneath series of disused furniture at the very back corner of the building on the second floor. "You're alright, my lad." Ivan had crawled into the tiny space, and, even though he was covered in blood and scratches and bruises, he had held Seungcheol's trembling body against his own, and had patted down Seungcheol sweat-slick hair as he cried. Afterwards, Ivan had carried the sleeping child down to the main part of the factory, and had found Seungcheol's Grandfather. "Tell your son that his little lad's safe and that cunt has been taken care of." Ivan said, seeing the old man's tattooed arm as he rolled up his sleeves and took hold of his youngest grandchild in his arms. Only then was it that he saw the text messages from nearly absolutely everyone he knew.

"The boy's Mother can never find out." Seungcheol remembered his Grandfather saying as he stayed half-asleep in his arms, his Grandfather's wood-musk scent calming him down. "You can't rely on that psychotic bitch. Get his Dad and get him home and get him taken care of. I'll come down and help you get rid of the shit."

Imagine if the world could understand that the Choi men and their workers loved their children and protected them so fiercely that they would kill to keep them safe.

But the world wouldn't see it like that. They would say that they were...they wouldn't undertand what it is to love so much.

Most of the world believed everyone was a good person.

And that was bullshit.

Seungcheol pulled himself away from those dark, dark memories, and checked his phone.

His heart twisted itself up in his chest when he saw a text from Joshua. 

I just saw what happened on the news, are you alright? The text read.

The text was nearly several hours ago, and, Seungcheol knew it was too late - and it would seem too strange - to respond at this time of night.

He left it until the next morning.

Seungcheol replied at eight 'o' clock when he woke up. This shit happens all the time to be honest; if you've got money, the scum of the earth dive for it. He had closed his eyes for a bit, trying to get some more sleep in, but, nothing had come. He'd just turned on his phone.

To his amazement, Joshua replied a few minutes later. A not-so-quiet thrill rushed through Seungcheol's body at how he and Joshua were talking to each other at the same time, thought apart. It seemed like a connection, and none more so sensual in history than this one.

Oh.

It seemed that Joshua didn't agree with his reply.

But two men died! was his response.

Anger flared up in Seungcheol, raw and visceral, from his gut upwards. The memories of when he was ten and Ivan Morova saved his life came rushing back to him.

What the fuck would you know you filthy bible-bashing cunt? Seungcheol thought animalistically and viciously.

He didn't answer Joshua back.

On the drive to work, Seungcheol felt his bones turn to steel, and his internal being turn to raw lava and fire inside. If there was any journalists outside making he and his family into the Antichrist, they were getting to get fucking smashed, regardless if they had a cock or a cunt.

Seungcheol burst out laughing as he pulled up at the front of the yard. It had to be on of the Slav's. It had to be.

Several of Ivan's boys, now only quarter-blood and then even less Korean due to marrying Russian women, worked at their factory and yard. Ivan's sons and grandsons.

They had parked the legendary 1939 American-designed Centurion tank weighing in at sixty-five tons out the front, and, there was some media, but that had their full attention, partly because Ivan's granson's Slavic Pagan wives had machine guns and were guarding the entrance to the yard and factories with blood from their husbands wrists smeared on their noses, chin, lips, cheekbones and forehead. But the media didn't know that. They didn't know anything about anything and would not understand. 

It was loosely understood that the Choi's were not Christians and did not like Christians.

What wasn't known that they had a very good relationship with the native Shaman's and the Russian Pagans, whose untouchable indigenous lands were absolute goldmines. Buried beneath was coal, titanium, gold, silver, diamonds, platinum, rubies, emeralds, quartz stone, and, most importantly, steel for making vehicles, tanks, bullets, guns and knives. Seungcheol's had had a-hundred-and-sixteen years to perfect the art of this relationship, this amount of money, this amount of trade, this amount of honour. And they had nailed it from day one.

"Ey, devushki." Seungcheol called out to them in Russian. They grinned animalistic smiles and came over for a kiss. None of the media dared take photographs, even on their slyly hidden cameras. Hey girls. Their lips were warm, pressing against each side of his face, their talon-like nails grazing gently over his shoulders and chest. "Posmotri na eti pizdy, idushchiye za korolem, a?" He commented, thoughts regarding the media. The young women giggled. They were all about his age. Look at these cunts coming for the king, eh? Seungcheol clicked his tongue and whistled at them. "Lyublyu tebya krutyye koty." He winked at them as he walked away.

Yes, they were married, and, yes, they were strong.

But it never hurt when Pagans got together, did it?

"Flirting with the girls?" His Grandfather commented, a steel-tin full of worker's tea in front of him, not drinking out of a mug like Seungcheol's Father did.

"Sort of, Pa." Seungcheol joked and grinned, kissing his Grandfather's head that hadn't suffered any hair-loss. "How's Dad?"

"Having a sleep in, so it's just us too." His Grandfather beamed joyously. "Come on, let's be idiots." The old man invited his grandson, ambling out of his chair and wrapping his rheumatic hand through Seungcheol's elbow. Seungcheol laughed.

His Grandfather knew they needed some light behaviour considering how dark yesterday was. 

Seungcheol knew he was going to miss his Grandfather so much when he eventually passed away or felt that he had to stop coming in to work to see his son and grandson.

Seungcheol's mood grew to utter elation as his Grandfather vouched the idea of driving to one of the local airports and having a fly around in one of their original British Spitifire war planes from the 1940's, and a plane worth £3,000,000 ought to be enjoyed, should it not?

He drove for his Grandfather, and, unlike his Father, his Grandfather didn't remind him unnessecarily of certain traffic signals and giving way at round-a-bouts. 

"Have you been seeing someone recently?" Grandfather asked Seungcheol, poking his knee with a rheumatically-swollen finger. Seungcheol poked him back, but more gntly.

"No, not dating anyone." Seungcheol answered.

"You've got sparks in your eyes." Grandfather raised an eyebrow imperiously, but, he had sparks in his eyes as well.

"I'm going to have a fly around in a Spitfire with my pa, of course I'm happy!" Seungcheol laughed.

"Dear thank God that your Mother is dead; what a carry on this occasion would be!" His Grandfather emitted a boastful tone that only old men who were young in the 30's and the 40's could truly craft. The matter though, he was correct. Seungcheol's Mother would indeed be carrying on about her youngest son going in a plane that was nearly as old as her Father-in-law. He looked beadily at Seungcheol, and, Seungcheol tried not to laugh. His Grandfather was absolutely incredibly, and, hilariously funny. The Winter Harvest bash at their factories every year - it could never be decided which year was the most iconic. Seungcheol thought the bash from 2010 was iconic largely due to the reason that it was completely unforgettable. A couple of the Pagan wives had been dancing around naked on some of the desks and tanks, and had gone for a dip in the dam at the bottom of the yard...which, unknown to them, was full of yabbies. At least three of the girls came out with yabbies dangling from their nipples. But, that hadn't been the most collossal event of the night: the wife of someone else went into labour when she was been showed some of the vintage aeroplanes. For the second time in his life, Seungcheol's Grandfather had delivered a baby - he had delivered his own son in the back of a MG sports car in 1972 when there was a ambulance strike on - with his virtual wind-commander, Ivan Morova on hand to help out with makeshift towels being their dinner shirts and lots of Russian chatter. "Are you sure you don't have someone?" Seungcheol's Grandfather insisted.

Seungcheol shook his head and confirmed his single status once more. The fell into a comfortable silence, and, Seungcheol put on a old CD full of songs from the 60's that his Grandfather liked. The first one up was "She's A Lady" by Tom Jones, and, to be honest, Seungcheol thought it was just about his Grandfather's favourite song.

"I think we might have rain, my boy." The old man stuck his hand none too far from the window, taking a break from singing along to the Welshman's English.

The spiced, warming scent of cigarette smoke filled up the car as Seungcheol couldn't help the full-on revelation of memory of what Joshua looked like sleeping in his bed wash like a wave over the surface of his brain.

"I FUCKING KNEW IT!" Seungcheol's Grandfather exploded loudly, and, utterly joyously. His own scent, a smoke smell, but a smell that came from a forest fire, not a cigarette, came up into the car as well as both just laughed themselves stupid. "My boy, we must go to her - AT ONCE!" Grandfather gave the British RAF squardron salute and reached over and beeped the car's horn at a dawdling Larda in front to hurry the fuck up. 

Seungcheol blamed Tom Jones.

He truly did blame Tom Jones.

"Oh-woah-oh-woah-oh, she's a lady

Talkin' about that little lady

And the lady is mine..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw, I absolutely love Tom Jones :)


	9. CHAPTER EIGHT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshua gets a fright when the Alpha drummer of his band picks up he is sick; just before things get too bad, the dramatic Grandpa Choi rushes in with a long-suffering Seungcheol and a nearly-pissing-himself-laughing Jihoon in tow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be updated very soon :)  
> For those who are wondering, Joshua and Seungcheol's relationship will come around soon with absolute fire

Today had been a good day. 

Everyone could tell that Drummer purposely wasn't thinking about any of his person life and therefore his dead lover.

Even though it was incredibly, incredibly sad, it was good.

"I like this bit, sounds sort of British." The omega keyboardist pointed out to Joshua on the printed lyric sheets. Joshua had written a second song, and, the point of reference the musician made was four lines:

She's the night sky

From old skies

Born to be the moonlight

I'm mesmerised til I die

"You did really, really good mate." The lead singer complimented Joshua before promptly giving him a kiss on the temple. Everyone laughed as Joshua's rain scent spiked up for a few moments. 

"Cats run away at the sight of you." The keyboardist joked, and, Joshua rolled his eyes. He really quite like this band if he was utterly honest.

Which he was.

"Hoonie doesn't want to rip your fucking face apart either." Joshua told the Drummer as he went over to him to discuss about the percussion for the song. The Drummer was good at reading music, so he pretty much had it right, but Joshua wanted to check on him. He was halfway through a setence when the Drummer's nose dipped to his wrist, and a slight change of expression came over him.

"You're sick." The Drummer commented.

"I'm always sick." Joshua smiled. He didn't want to think at how he wouldn't be able to talk for the next six weeks from tomorrow evening, following the re-surgery of the tracheotomy made in his throat when he was nineteen. Part of the surgery was to have the stent temporarily taken out that was against the pea-sized remains of his adam's apple when most of it was taken away due to his cancer all those years ago. That stent, that tiny weight, let him sound like a man when he talked. And, now, he was just going to make croaky, frighening, distorted sounds at his best.

Like a freak.

An absolute freak.

"You're sicker." The Drummer remarked.

Joshua started to feel frightened. No. He didn't want to do this. He couldn't do this, not at work, not right now.

"You right?" One of the guitarists called over. All the attentions of the betas were on their omega song-writer with their Aplha drummer. 

Joshua felt terrible and sick with the Alpha's hard eyes glaring down to him.

"Hey, stop it." The omega keyboardist stepped in and put a arm round Joshua's near anorexic shoulders. "Don't do that." He frowned at the Alpha, but, was put down in his palce as the Aplha emitted a low growl from his throat. 

The betas came over looking tough as Joshua was scared enough into admitting it.

"I'm going to have to take the next few weeks off." He said. "My cancer has come back and I need to have surgery on my throat and even though I'll be fit I won't be able to talk like I am now."

Everyone was dead silent. 

"Oh, Josh." The omega right beside him said softly.

That was the quip of the pity and worries from absolutely everyone else. 

Joshua just wanted to go home, but, his plans were meddled up by shouting starting up. Joshua shivered, thinking it was a fight going on, but, he soon realized...

It was an old man cheering.

Joshua looked at his band before looking around to the doors of the studios just as they swung open and...

Jihoon was absolutely pissing himself laughing, walking in just behind a old man in a black coat, good jeans, a waiscoat, and a button-up shirt and then -

Oh, dear God.

Seungcheol. 

Choi Seungcheol.

Joshua helplessly stared, his lips just cracking apart out of shock. 

The old man walked right over to him before peering up at him. The man was tiny - only as big as Jihoon - and had to be in his eighties - at the least. "Dear God, my girl, you poor thing." He commented, and, he was sincere. 

Jihoon collapsed down to the ground, still laughing.

"What is wrong with this one?" The old man pointed to Jihoon on the ground, talking to his grandson. "It was funny earlier but not now."

"This is Joshua Hong." Seunhcheol introduced him. "And, I love you, Pa, but if you ever pull a stunt like that again -"

"Cut my viagra tablets?" The old man inquired. "Ha!" He emitted boastfully.

Jihoon nearly died on the floor. 

Joshua felt very naked, standing in front of the old man even though he was in his jeans, a cotton shirt, and a cardigan. Even though it was a fairly nice winter's day - just a touch overcast - Joshua felt the cold more acutely. He looked from Joshua to Seungcheol.

"Thank God your Mother is dead." The old man remarked to Seungcheol in a manner that was blatantly obvious:

That was a remark only understood by the family and only truly to be understood by the family.

"I can't die now." The old man looked back to his Grandson.

"How do you mean?" Seungcheol slipped his hands into his pockets, not very much perturbed as the lead singer helped Jihoon - now quiet - off of the ground and everyone just stood, watching.

"Because it seems about this young man and I have the same amount of time left, and, I hope that someone gives him a bit more of my already borrowed time." Suddenly, the old man held out his hand in a Anglo-style mannerism, but knuckles looking painfully swollen with rheumatism. Joshua was very gentle as he took the old man's hand and shook it; something glinted in the old man's eyes, a quite thank you for Joshua's consideration.

The old man was an Alpha, just like his Grandson. And, though shrunken and wrinkled and rheumatic, there was something horrific and alive and handsome and youthful in his eyes.

Even though Joshua was way of him, on top of being in a terrible mood already, Joshua took to him instantly.

Look at you, a voice murmured in his head, sounding a bit like Minghao's. Your inner omega sub is coming out for Seungcheol's Grandpa. Ooo, look at you

Joshua smiled, just the imagining of Minghao's voice saying something he most likely actually would echoing about his skull warming him.

"Just call me Pa." The old man said. "Everyone fuckin' does."

The Aplha drummer cracked a grin. He said something that didn't catch. However, it caught the attention of Seungcheol and his Grandfather.

"Hang on, you're Rin's son." Seungcheol said.

"Yeah, she's my Mum." The Drummer confirmed. All of a sudden, the old man virtually hugged the drummer's hips and Seungcheol said something in a language that Joshua didn't recognise.

Seungcheol came over and the two aplha's clapped hands and bumped chests before Joshua's blood ran cold at the sight of the drummer and Seungcheol's pressing their noses and foreheads together for a few moments, blissful expressions on their faces.

Joshua felt like he was going to vomit.

Pagans.

That was Pagan.

Hongi.

Only Pagans did Hongi.

And Pagans...

Joshua left the room as quick as he could, not looking back, not saying anything. But, the worst case happened. He heard Seungcheol's footsteps behind him, and, then, they died off. They were replaced with the ones of his Grandfather. Joshua kept walking down the hall, dragging his oxygen tank behind him, and felt the heavy sickness of his lungs drowning under pressure in his chest.

"Young man, stop." The old man's voice call authoritavely. Joshua turned around to look. He didn't know the man, but the command in his tone pulled him down onto the straight line that Joshua didn't dare stray from. Even though the man was impossibly old, Joshua could never be let down from that.

"I'm aware I created quite a scene." The old man gave a wry smile. "But my child was happy and I wanted to know why. I've always been a bit of a dramatic cunt and the latest business hasn't been very nice for any of us." He regarded the shooting deaths of the two drug-addict ribbers delicately but carelessly toned. "I give responsibility for all that's gone on; but none of it was in intention to put you out of order." The old man's eyes gazed deeply at him.

Joshua swallowed nervously. "I'm not feeling well, M. Choi, I'd just like to go home -" He tried to come out of it.

"Let me take you then." The man said. Joshua sighed helplessly.

"Seungcheol -" Joshua tried to explain, but, the old man cut through him. 

"The boy can stay here with that young M. Lee and I'll take you home." The old man said. A shiver went through Joshua. He wasn't going to hide the fact - bizarre as it may be - that the man had a effect on him. Joshua began to wonder if his son was like this, and if his Grandson, Seungcheol, could be like this, too.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know your son as well as you think I do -" Joshua tried again.

"Yes, you do." Seungcheol's Grandfather said once more.

This time, Joshua went with him. The old man - curiously upright for his age - held out an arm for Joshua to take, and, Joshua didn't think to not take it. For Seungcheol to be around the old man evidently had to have been heterosexual, and so must Seungcheol's Father, but, the old man almost had the behaviour of someone...

Who had spent many years around "different" people.

"M. Choi?" Joshua broached tenatively. Joshua just couldn't come at calling the old man "Pa". It seemed the old man didn't mind what he got called.

"Yes, boy?" He commented.

"Why are you..." Joshua slid his eyes down to their arms, his free hand dragging his oxygen tank along. 

"Oh, goodness me, don't get the wrong idea, lad, no, no." The old man chuckled. He was been quite kind. "But you're a terminally ill young man whose very upset and he's just had a arms dealer burst into his workplace and size him up for his youngest grandchild. Of course I'm making sure you don't pass out. Once you're on the ground I can't get you back up again. If I was twenty years younger, we'd be right, but, oh, no, not now, boy."

Joshua didn't know what shocked him more. That Seungcheol's Grandfather openly referred to himself as an arm's dealer or that he had enough considerate consience around a young man he didn't even know. 

Amazing what anorexic flesh and oxygen tanks, did, wasn't it?

The old man was true to his word.

He took Joshua straight home, and, accompanied him in the buildings elevator to the eigth floor. He kept a arm on Joshua as he unlocked the front door. 

Joshua nearly died.

Ah.

Minghao was working from home.

Somedays he just stayed in the house doing embroidery and beading work, sick of his shop with people looking in through the windows at him and yelling out terms like "Fag" because, for once, it was an actual human being making expensive tailoring and not sub-grade machine full of underpaid workers in Shanghai.

Minghao had been sitting at the kitchen table, and his eyes had widened a bit behind his glasses he wore when he was doing fiddly detail work on his garments, looking at the old man, who, you could truly tell in this lighting had been a astonishly good-looking bloke in his time.

"Whose this?" Minghao asked, sliding his glasses down his nose and putting his work at the kitchen table. 

The old man peered up at Joshua. "Your man?" Something dark came into his eyes.

Joshua knew what it was instantly. The old man thought his grandchild was getting messed around by a fag with a oxygen tank.

Oh God. No, no, no, no, no.

"One of my two housemates and best friends who helps look after me as a carer." Joshua quickly said. The old man looked from him to Minghao and then back at Joshua. 

"Josh, come here." Minghao moved around the table a bit and held out a arm for Joshua. Joshua went to him, and Minghao's other hand pressed to Joshua's chest, both of them looking at the old man.

"Choi Kyung-soo." The old man introduced himself with a feral smile. Minghao and Joshua were shaken badly. "Owner and managing director of Asia's oldest and largest arms dealers." He gazed at the two of them. "Give my favourite grandchild AID's and I will cut your throat, pretty darling." He left as his departing words to Joshua before he went back through their front door.

Minghao and Joshua looked at each other, wide-eyed and shocked into silence.

"Seungcheol's Grandpa." Joshua explained weakly.

"He's a cunt." Minghao said softly, openly. He kept a hold on Joshua. "Please tell me he's not like that?"

"No, Seungcheol's a really nice guy." Joshua confirmed. 

"You can't be this stressed without your medication and your surgery tomorrow." Minghao said. "What even happened?"

Joshua attempted to explain it as best as he could. "That's so fucking weird." Minghao said. Joshua went into his bedroom and laid down, wanting to do it or quite a while. Minghao came in with mugs of tea a few minutes later and laid down across the end of Joshua's bed. 

"He must really like you if his Grandpa came in and pulled a stunt like this." Minghao said.

"And his Grandfather just threatened to kill me and thought I might have AID's." Joshua added faintly. "It's been a really shit day." He summed it up. Minghao nodded. 

"What are you and Seungcheol doing anyway?" Minghao asked.

"What do you mean?" Joshua shifted on his bed. He nervously adjusted the oxygen tank cords around his cheekbones and ears.

Minghao raised his eyebrows.

"Well...nothing." Joshua shrugged.

"He obviously wants to be around you." Minghao remarked.

Joshua hesitated before speaking, but, it was what needed to be said. What it concerned. What he wanted to say. "But how can I tell him that I don't know if I'm going to die in a month or something?" Joshua whispered.

Minghao gazed at him intently and knowingly. "Between you and me, I think he's got that well worked out with some fucking practice after all these years."


	10. CHAPTER NINE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol in his Rolls Royce Phantom comes to Joshuas rescue for his hospital appointment when Minghao's BMW breaks down and Junhui's KTM motorcycle is no use. Meanwhile, Jihoon takes Soonyoung and Seokmin to the hospital with suspected asbestos poisoning from their collapsed house. It's touching as intimate as they wait for Joshua's surgery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is one of the most significant and largest chapters; I hope ypu feel it like I do

Both Minghao and Junhui were to come with Joshua to the Day Surgery hospital, but, as always, there was an issue. 

"That German cunt of a thing hasn't?" Junhui had snapped with Minghao came back inside with a crest-fallen expression as the keys to his BMW in hand. 

"It sounds like him." Minghao pointed to Joshua. 

"Wait up here, love." Junhui bustled Joshua back into the warm sitting room, the central heating still turned on for the time being, and followed Minghao out of the front door. It was the third time that day that Junhui had called him love and hadn't appeared to notice it, Joshua wondered on. He went over to the dining room and looked out of the window. 

Junhui was visibly doing his nut about something, and, Minghao was leaning against the bonnet of his BMW.

Joshua knew that car must have fucked itself. No other reason otherwise. 

Curiously, he began to laugh. It was just too funny for words. It was bad - of course it was fucking bad! He couldn't be late for the surgery, absolutely not! But...Junhui had always hated German cars with a passion and had chased Minghao around with a spatula the day he had come home with it. He leant against the windowsill and wondered what they were going to do. Junhui downright refused to let Joshua ever go in a cab; "All cab drivers are filthy fucking cunts and those cars are just a virus with a six-speed gear-box, fucking cabs." Junhui swore blind all of the time. And, Joshua didn't have a car - he just walked to work, or, caught the underground, and, at the first sight of his oxygen tank, everyone gave him a massive berth anyway - so the only vehicle they had left between the three of them was Junhui's KTM motorcycle. And carrying a cancer patient on the back with a tank, plus two overnight bags and - no way, it would not work. He sighed, and looked up the stars starting to come out int the sky as Junhui opened the bonnet of Minghao's BMW and buried his upper half inside of it. Joshua pulled his phone out of his pocket and wondered if Seungcheol would come in and save his life one more time.

Joshua dialed Seungcheol's phone number, and, on the fifth ring with Joshua's heart starting to break a little bit, Seungcheol picked up.

"Hey mate, sorry, thought it was the secretaries phone going, hey, how are you going?" Seungcheol blurted out in a rush. Joshua smiled to himself a tiny bit, and looked back out of the window to Junhui and Minghao leaving the BMW and coming back inside the tower block.

"I need your help. I need to go in for surgery at five 'o' clock and the sun's going down and it's peak hour traffic, and my mate - Minghao's - his cars just fucked itself and he's the only one with a car." Joshua explained. "I don't want to trouble you at work, but -"

"Don't you worry, I'm on my way." Seungcheol cut in. "Your two mates want to come?"

"Yeah." Joshua nodded even though he was on the phone.

"Do you have bags and stuff?" Seungcheol checked.

"Yeah."

"I'll bring the Phantom then, won't be enough room in the Bentley." Joshua frowned slightly, hearing yelling in the background, and it sounded like...Russian?

Joshua blinked. "Phantom? What - Rolls Royce Phantom?"

"Yeah, buddy." Seungcheol laughed. "Cancer treatment needs some style, right?"

Joshua wore a huge smile on his face as the front door to their apartment opened and Minghao and Junhui came inside. 

"I told you to stay where it's warm!" Junhui had just exclaimed when Joshua told him to shut up and told them the new plan. 

"But his Grandad's an arshole!" Minghao hollered incredulously with Junhui's, "Who the fuck is this guy?"

"He's the Grandson of the people who own the gun and tank and army shit manufacturing place just out of the city where those two drug addicts got shot." Minghao reminded Junhui. Something like the look of carnivore came over Junhui's features. Minghao's mouth came open.

"I prefer a arms dealer to a dirty cunt in cab." Junhui shrugged agreeably.

"He really is a nice guy." Joshua pressed.

Minghao just howled noise.

Ten minutes later, Joshua called out for Junhui and Minghao. "He's here!"

Minghao and Junhui collected Joshua's bag from the sitting room, and, when they came out onto the street pavement, they nearly dropped them. 

"Get in guys, we're good to go!" Seungcheol said.

"You are fucking kidding me." Minghao whispered at the sheer sight of the nearly century-old car.

"It does 120 miles an hour, don't sulk, we'll be right." Junhui beamed and organized everything.

Meanwhile, Jihoon was still thinking about showing Soonyoung and Seokmin how to use the settings on his top-loader washing machine, different to their front-loader as they to drove to the Day Surgery hospital in the inner city.

The collapsing roof had been a disaster. Abestos removalists, health and safety officials from the council and other local government, plus insurance agents had been swarming around the ruined - absolutely ruined - property for days. So much of Soonyoung and Seokmin's posessions had been destroyed, and, on top of that, the two of them had come close to been killed under the collapsing structure. Both of them had been taken to hospital after the disaster for abestos inhalation, and, now, both Soonyoung and Seokmin were waiting for blood results taken earlier that day to see if they'd been poisoned by it, because, worryingly, both of them had been sick. Bloody sick. Seokmin had had so many harsh coughing fits that made him sound like a walrus that blood had started to come up with the phlegm pouring out his lungs. He had blood noses and a irregular body temperature, too cold or too hot. He was having a horrific time trying to sleep, and, he always had a tremor about him.

Soonyoung was exactly the same.

It was absolutely terrifying Jihoon. Everyone he knew was sick. Joshua...well, Joshua was fucked. It was unkind to put it this way, but, that's how it was. He was absolutely fucked. 

In the city, the Day Surgery hospital while the ordinairy Hospital were seated across the road from each other. As Jihoon had driven Soonyoung and Seokmin into the Day Clinic to see a pathologist specialist concering their results, there had been a car coming towards them, but, it wasn't just any car. It was a 1924 dark red Rolls Royce Phantom. "Look at that!" Soonyoung said not overly loudly and pointed to it. Jihoon couldn't help staring as he saw Joshua in the passenger seat, half curled up in the seat with his oxyegn tubes seeming to glow a little bit in the early night. He waved to Jihoon, and, Seungcheol beeped his horn. Jihoon immediately called Seungcheol, getting Seokmin in the passenger seat of his Mazda CX-9 to hold the phone so he wouldn't get in trouble with the rozzers. 

"Why is my best employee in your Rolls?" Jihoon asked candidly, navigating his way into the underground car-park. "Turn your fucking lights down!" He added as Seungcheol's Rolls Royce Phantom came in behind them in the pitch-black car-park.

"Sorry, mate." Seungcheol said. "Joshua's two mates were going to bring him, but, both of their sets-of-wheels had an issue. One of them - Junhui - is motorcycle can't take a cancer patient on the back without a strap-lashing from the pigs -" Jihoon grinned at Seungcheol's term for the police. "And, of all days, the BMW the other one - Minghao - owns fucked it's own exhaust."

"As all German cars do apparently, according to M. Choi, chauffer for the evening." Joshua's voice remarked with a chuckle. "Guys, say hi to Jihoon."

Two voice chattered in Mandarin back to him.

"What are you here for?" Seungcheol's voice asked.

"Tell you when we get inside." Jihoon said. "Now fuck off and let me park the car."

The last thing he heard was Seungcheol, Joshua, Joshua's friends laughing over the phone alone with the sight of them in the rear-vision mirror of Jihoon's car, coupled with Soonyoung and Seokmin's laughter. Seokmin caught another blood nose, and, Jihoon quickly got some tissues out of the glovebox for him.

Seokmin and Soonyoung followed by him as they finally found a park and went to the elevators to take them up the third floor for the pathology unit. Jihoon waited by the elevators for a couple of seconds while Seungcheol came over with Joshua and seemed to be two young Chinese men. "Which one are you?" Seungcheol checked with Jihoon.

"Third floor." Jihoon answered.

"We're one up, we'll be right." Seungcheol took in Seokmin and Soonyoung as everyone crowded into the elevators. They look terrible. Both smiled and said hello. Everyone then got in on the act. Seokmin's eyes sadly took in Joshua, and, Soonyoung was quite subdued as well.

"What happened to you two?" Joshua's voice asked.

"Suspected asbestos poisoning." Jihoon answered. Seungcheol and one of the Chinese men - came to be known as Junhui - swore, while the other one - Minghao - and Joshua didn't go to that extent. 

"What about you?" Soonyoung asked Joshua. 

"Throat surgery." Joshua spoke softly, gesturing to his throat. "I've got terminal cancer."

Seokmin's eyes helplessly watered up a bit. Within another single second, they were at the third floor. 

"Good luck, Joshy, eh?" Jihoon hugged Joshua and they all mirrored the same behaviour as Jihoon, Soonyoung and Seokmin climbed out of the lift on the third floor. It just left Seungcheol, Joshua, Minghao and Junhui in the elevator for a little bit more.

"Nice guys." Joshua and Minghao said at the same time. They laughed while Seungcheol and Junhui smiled. Suddenly, Joshua's head ducked down, and, Suengcheol saw the flood waiting in Joshua's eyes. The smell of rain filled up the elevator, and, animalistically, Junhui and Seungcheol's internal beings went and dived into their protective instincts. It didn't get more serious than this. It didn't get sadder than this.

"You'll be able to talk again." Minghao whispered into Joshua's hair, holding him. "We did it all last time. It's just for the first couple of weeks, hey?" Minghao held Joshua's body so tight against his and with such a trust and intimacy that Seungcheol had to close his eyes. Junhui's hand stroked through Joshua's hair. 

"It's ok, love." He said. "Trust in me..."

Suddenly, Joshua and Minghao burst out out into near hysterical laughter. Both of their faces were wet and their eyes were red and swollen, but, they looked utterly joyous.

"You cunt of a man." Joshua wheezed out as he laughed more and wiped his eyes, shirt drawn over the heel of his palm.

Together they all went into the waiting room, and, soon, Joshua was taken away. Junhui as a paramedic was recognised, and greeted warmly and cheerfully by the pretty nurses. Seungcheol and Minghao were allowed to watch into the ampitheatre through a glass window as Junhui held Joshua's hand as the anethetist put him under.

"Count down from ten for me, Josh..." The kind old surgeon who had done his surgery when he was nineteen said down to him. Joshua suddenly had the thought that everywhere in his life, for what it had been up to this point, when he did go, how many people would remember the skinny boy with the huge eyes and the English name with the gentle squeak of the wheels of his oxygen tank?

So many. That was the answer.

So, so many people.

"Love you." Junhui kissed the top of Joshua's head and Joshua mumbled out numbers. "We all do, mate."

Joshua got to number four, and, then, the world went utterly dark, and, he slipped away, a transition more faint than going to sleep. 


	11. CHAPTER TEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol's naturalist mindset sets him off to frighten Minghao on the discussion of being with Joshua; what sort of Christian would be with someone like him? Soonyoung and Seokmin's asbestos poisoning results come back positive.   
> Joshua and Seungcheol's relationship begins in the middle of the night with a gramophone record playing the background, and, Joshua been terrified of sound like a monster when he talked with his tracheotomy stent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please do tell me what you think; I out quite a bit of work into this

"Where are his parents?" Seungcheol asked Minghao.

"They'll be on the phone when he wakes up." Minghao said. "It's been very hard for them. When Joshua was healthy enough - still ill, but healthy - his parents went to America. It had always been there dream to go, and, they settled down and brought a house there. It was so hard for them to realize that even though there was always the terminal diagnosis hanging over his head, Joshua was going to live. If Junhui wasn't trained in medical things, I don't think Joshua would be allowed to live like he is, like we all do. Junnie and I are put down as sort of carers-cum-guardians for Joshua with his health the way it is. And his family..." Minghao sighed. "It's just been hard." He smiled a little bit. "Had a massive problem with me and Jun in the beginning."

It was all he said about the matter. 

Seungcheol glanced up to the ceiling of the hospital waiting room that also doubled up as a cafe atrium. The Day Surgery really was a beautiful hospital; where he and Minghao were was a cathedral like ceiling with beautiful glass sculptural chandliers coming down from the five storey height. Depending on what time of day it was, the shades of light that the chandlier caught changed. In the early morning, it was mixes of gold, lavender, blue, rose-gold, and, the softest pinks. In the night-time now, it was shades of dark blue and navy, like ink put into freshwater. Tiny spots of gold caught the scultupure like fireflies, and, Seungcheol was entranced by it. In his thoughts, he remembered been in his Grandparent's original and absolutely luxurious Art-Deco house in the sitting room. The walls were paneled and there was a open fireplace with a dark green Danish rug with red and gold and cream emblems along the edges with a gold fringe. All the furniture was original, and, the stained glass ceiling lights...

A dream-like jazz record had been playing from the gramophone on a coffee table between two of the armchairs in the space, and, the television had been playing softly in the background, a even British sit-com. Seungcheol remembered his Grandfather dancing around with his Grandmother to the Jazz music while he himself - only little - played with his toy cars or blocks of whatever it was he had had out.

"I've not been very good to you, have I, dear?" His Grandfather had whispered to his wife.

"No, you haven't, these last fifty years." She had answered him.

Seungcheol briefly closed his eyes, cutting off the memory. "When will he come out, do you think?" He asked Minghao, turning his head. Minghao gazed up at the scultpure. Seungcheol flushed a little bit, realizing that Minghao must have followed his line of sight.

"Maybe an hour, hour and a half?" Minghao suggested from experience. "The Day Surgery closes at half nine, so, he'll have to be out and awake from the anaesthetic by then, even if we have to force him."

"What?" Seungcheol said. Minghao glanced at him.

"Joshua's a bit iconic for not getting out from been under easy." Minghao explained. "The first procedure he had done when he was nineteen - it took him nine hours to wake up from the anasthetic."

Seungcheol's eyes widened. "That's not good, is it?" He said.

Minghao shook his head minutely. He looked to Seungcheol. "What is going on with you and Josh?" He questoned.

"Wish I knew." Seungcheol mumbled an answer.

"What do you want?" Minghao pressed, crossing his legs and resting his elbows over one another on that knee.

"Well, I adore him." Seungcheol admitted freely and softly. He gazed up at the scultpure, and, something about it reminded him of how he felt when he thought about Joshua. That sort of ethereality. "Always have done." Seungcheol looked back to Minghao. "Always will do." The faintest, faintest smile came into Seungcheol's eyes. Minghao watched him intently, carefully. Seungcheol sighed, and ran his hand through his head. "But, there's a lot of things - little complications - that can't be ignored, so, it wouldn't work out in the long run." He added dismissevly. "He'd just end up leaving me, and, that's how'd it be." Seungcheol bit the side of his thumb, a gesture he knew he had inherited from his Father and Grandfather. "It's always the fucking Christians." He scoffed under his breath, knotting his hands together and bringing up on leg so the ankle rested on his other knee.

"What does religion have anything to do with it?" Minghao asked.

You stupid, stupid man, Seungcheol thought as he took in Minghao's being. "Everything." He answered. "You'd think Joshua's family wouldn't be in his ear about how the Devil would get him if he got it on with a Pagan?"

Seungcheol wished he could actually smoke, but, he was in the middle of a hospital.

"What they don't know doesn't hurt them." Minghao said. Seungcheol raised an eyebrow.

"You won't think Joshua wouldn't leave me because of the Jewish shit he was taught as a little child?" Seungcheol remarked.

Minghao looked down to the ground. 

The Alpha was angry now. And Minghao really didn't want to be on the recieveing end of it. 

"If Joshua knew you loved him he wouldn't think like that." Minghao dared to say. Seungcheol looked at him. 

"You know the one truthful thing those dirty paedophile priests teach those poor children that they dream about raping?" Seungcheol commented icily and animalistically. Minghao was getting afriad. He couldn't help it. A shiver ran down his spine. "Don't go near the Pagans; they will kill you." Seungcheol chuckled deresively. "And we fucking do the moment we get on bit of shit from those sub-human cunts." He softly snarled. "The Christian men always come for the Pagan women because they need the animal, the wildness, the viciousness, something they don't get from stupid Christian women, and, then, they end up crawling back to what they come from because they soon learn that they can't survive. And, the Christian girls always go for the pagan men until their stupidity kills the Pagan inside...it's why bible-basher bitches always get hurt."

Seungcheol left the shrunken and shivering Minghao to have a smoke outside.

All the while. Jihoon waited on the third floor of the Day Surgery hospital in the pathology unit with Soonyoung and Seokmin. 

Their results had come back positive. 

They were waiting for the Doctor to come back and tell them what they had to do.

"I'm really scared." Soonyoung said. Seokmin put an arm around him and held onto him. Jihoon pulled out his phone and called Seungcheol to check in on Joshua.

"Retarded fucking cunts." Was the first thing Jihoon's ears were met with. "I may be a freak with a closet for of AK-7's, but at least I fucking know the real world."

Jihoon closed his eyes, automatically knowing something had happened. Jihoon gently eased it out of Seungcheol.

Seungcheol couldn't love Joshua because Joshua would act as any Christian man did and in doing so, he'd hurt Seungcheol very, very badly.

The irony was, even though Minghao had his feelings hurt, Jihoon agreed. It was right. Exactly right. It's what would happen. 

Everytime.

"Come up with us, Cheol." Jihoon said. "Don't be outside in the cold chain-smoking. Come up and see us."

"How are the boys?" Seungcheol made the sincere effort to check up.

"Test came back positive." Jihoon told him simply.

"Oh, fuck." Seungcheol swore. Jihoon could clearly see him in his mind's eye rubbing his hand over his face and wondering what to say.

"Just waiting for one of the cunts in here to tell us what we have to do." Jihoon scoffed a bitter laugh.

"Be up in a minute, Ji." Seungcheol said soothingly.

Nearly everyone was in a bad mood that night. Slowly the time ticked around to half-nine, and, with everyone looked after, they all bundled back into the Mazda and the Rolls Royce Phantom as the hospital shut down. Junhui snarled quietly that they should have transferred Joshua across the road and given him a room for the night, but, Minghao calmed him down. He already had to be in a luxury car with one pissed-off Alpha, he didn't need a second one to have to deal with while Joshua was still unconcious. Joshua was transformed. He was still pale, and, over the incision made once more in his throat with matters only Joshua could properly explain to them all when he woke up, was a white plastic cap that looked like it had just melted like a spot of ice cream onto Joshua's skin, and, it was about the size of a sprout. Behind it was Joshua's opened air-way and, once more, his complicated body had another interesting remark about it. Joshua's oxygen tank was tucked between Minghao's knees, and, Junhui peered over to check the levels on it. Between the ill healths of Joshua, Soonyoung and Seokmin, it was largely the feelings of everyone that that day would please just fucking end.

They reached Jihoon's house together before Joshua, Junhui and Minghao's. Seungcheol, Minghao and Junhui's mouths came open at the sight of the ruined remains of what had been Soonyoung and Seokmin's house next to Jihoon's much more stable one next door. Seungcheol got out and helped Jihoon to get Soonyoung and Seokmin inside and talk to him for a couple of minutes. Minghao and Junhui were alright waiting in the Phantom with the still out-of-it Joshua.

"No wonder the boys got sick." Minghao pointed out of the window of the Rolls Royce. Joshua was asleep across Minghao and Junhui's laps in the back of the car, and, all the bags, mediction, doctor's forms and pharmacy prescriptions were piled into the passenger seat, on the seat and down at the floor. 

"That is fucking serious." Junhui said. Minghao looked to him, and minded Joshua's head in his lap. 

"Will Seokmin and Soonyoung be ok?" He asked. Junhui shook his head. Minghao almost wished he hadn't asked.

"They'll get better, but, they will almost certainly get cancer directly caused by the abestos. They can pump the chemical out of their system, but, in full honesty, how sick they are now - this is the beginning of somethting they'll have on and off for the rest of their lives. Lowered immunity, weak lung function...they ought to fucking sue the arses of whoever and everyone they can by law." Junhui said. 

"Can they do that?" Minghao quipped.

"Oh, fuck yeah." Junhui nodded serously. "They'll probably get about a £800,000 pay-out each with a pension for the rest of their lives."

Minghao's eyes widened. He went to speak, but, they stopped and their eyes locked onto Joshua as he stirred slightly, his face nuzzling against Minghao's crotch. Junhui swore and shifted Joshua's body so the cap over his throat wouldn't shift and cause him any pain. 

"Josh?" Junhui said. "You awake, love?"

Joshua let out a soft moan after a few moments. While it freaked out Minghao, Junhui smiled.

"Hey, love, you're alright, we're just in the back of Seungcheol's Phantom, right?" Junhui rubbed his thumb over Joshua's cheekbone, trying to bring him around without slapping him. 

Joshua's eyes opened up blearily. What time is it? He said, but, he stopped. One, his throat felt tight and sore, and, that wasn't a human sound that came from his mouth. It was hideous, garbled, distorted. The voice of a Frankenstein. Joshua nearly cried.

"Ten 'o' clock and you've been out of it for five hours after the operation." Minghao told him. Joshua didn't know how Minghao managed to pick what he said. He sounded like a monster.

Joshua was glad it was dark. So fucking glad it was dark. But, the way Junhui was hovering, it was like he could see him.

I just want to go home, Joshua said, before, stopping himself. Tears ran down the outer corners of his eyes and across his temples into his hair. He had to remember to not speak. He had to remember...

"Seungcheol's been in there long enough, I'll go and get him to hurry the fuck up." Junhui climbed out of the car after carefully getting Joshua's legs off of his lap. Minghao stroked Joshua's hair back from his face, and, helped him sit up. 

"Be home soon, Josh." Minghao murmured to him, holding Joshua's body to his own.

Quickly, Junhui returned with Seungcheol and Soonyoung, Seokmin and Jihoon waving goodbye and goodnight to them from the front door. The drive back to Joshua, Minghao and Junhui's was quiet.

"How'd you feel, Josh?" Seungcheol asked from the driver's seat. Minghao's head bowed as Joshua returned to feeling like absolute shit.

"He can't talk, Cheol." Junhui told him on the quiet. He was now sitting in the passenger seat beside Seungcheol. Joshua pressed himself into Minghao even harder.

When they got home, Minghao helped Joshua into his room and got everything with him settled down while Junhui and Seungcheol brought in the bags from the hospital, and, Junhui put on a 1975 vinyl record from their Music For Cars era and got out the alcohol from the cabinet above the stove. Minghao, Junhui and Seungcheol drank far too much for about half an hour, and, it had already been decided for Seungcheol to lock up the front door on his way out as Minghao and Junhui went to their bedrooms to curl up drunkenly beneath the thick covers.

A breathtaking soundtrack the seemed Pagan to Seungcheol played in the background as he crept to the hall where Joshua's bedroom was. He had been going to leave, his coat on his shoulders, but he had heard the sound of footsteps and the opening of a door. Seungcheol thought it was Minghao or Junhui, but, it was Joshua. Despite the white plastic bottle-like cap on his throat, he seemed even more beautiful to Seungcheol than ever before.

"Our jeans are so new..." Was sung from the gramophone in the sitting room.

"Josh, are you alright?" Seungcheol moved up towards him, and, something in him was stirred as Joshua's large, silent, universal eyes drank him in like oxyegn, and, while the depth reached into the pits of Seungcheol's stomach and his chest, it was so under-cover that it was utterly extroadinairy.

"We should eat on of them before two..."

Seungcheol remembered Joshua couldn't speak, and, something furious and ashamed scorched up his internal being instead. He moved in close to Joshua, and, the two of them just looked at the other.

"And I'm so high..." Seungcheol's breath caught in his throat as Joshua's lips moved along to the song. "I think I love you..."

"Hey." One of Seungcheol's hands came up and held Joshua's face. That was just too much. The love of his life's lips moving along to that song, and, oh, God, even if you didn't speak English, "I love you" was absolutely fucking universal. The discography soundtrack provided absolute and ethereal wonder for the moments passing between them. Seungcheol realized that it felt like they were in a film, and not in harsh, bleak reality where, any other time, it would just be silence, dead silence, between them. No harmonies as beautiful as that could play in their heads. 

"And I was thinking about leaving again, it all depends, are we just friends?"

"What are you trying to get across to me?" Seungcheol whispered, just wanting to kiss Joshua, have their beings held into one. Joshua's eyes drank him.

"And can you leave me a little bit of your k? But for you, babe, it's an anobrain."

"Oon-hol." Joshua whispered, his eyes vulnerable and dark and searching and alive and sincere and hopeless as he looked to Seungcheol. Seungcheol couldn't focus on anything other than Joshua, saying his name. But saying his name, it was like Joshua was inducting Seungcheol himself into this new world, full of hospital appointments and cancer treatment and unsure diagnosis and so, so much of him. Seungcheol was nearly swept away, if not for the feeling of Joshua's warm skin beneath his fingertips. Seungcheol remembered Junhui saying that Joshua couldn't speak.

What did he mean by that? What if he really mean that Joshua...

Seungcheol's thumb came down and traced as gently as he possibly could over Joshua's lips.

"And we take your Mum's car to the edge of the town. Yeah, we drive. We go round and round..."

Seungcheol stepped that little bit forward, and, for the first time in ten years of loving Joshua Hong, he kissed him. In the background, the rest of of the song's discography came to an end, and, only the softest, sofest scratching was so distancely heard as everything human within Seungcheol's being was elevated to the heights of been alive before been swept away like a wave on the darkest night, for, on the darkest nights, the universe was the most illuminated, the most transcending it could ever be by seeing human eyes.

"Ay." Joshua barely managed to say, the tracheotomy stent in his throat, bringing him down.

Stay.


	12. CHAPTER ELEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol wakes up to Joshua for the first time as his partner, but, Seungcheol gets thinking about weird memories from when they were teenagers. He's quickly confronted with the day-to-day reality and struggle of Joshua's life and quickly feels hopeless, but, Joshua assures him his good. All the while, Seungcheol's Grandfather brews plans for the future.  
> The future of his grandson and Joshua

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, we have a update :) Do enjoy

Seungcheol was sure that he clung onto Joshua's body so tightly when they slept that he almost certainly would have bruised Joshua's skin. 

For the second time in the last ten years - for the second time in his whole life - Choi Seungcheol got to wake up to Joshua Hong.

But, for the first time in ten years - for the first time in his whole life - Choi Seungcheol got to wake up to Joshua Hong as his lover, one that belonged only to the other, one solely made for the other.

Joshua lay on his side, his face nearly against Seungcheol's chest, neatly tucked away in Seungcheol's embrace. 

The two of them hadn't had sex.

Joshua was too sick for that, too raw, too fresh from his operation.

Seungcheol could wait.

He'd done ten years.

He could do a few more weeks.

Weeks.

Hopefully.

Seungcheol wasn't sure about months, but, then, Joshua had been sick for ten years too, and, there was always the fear that it was only weeks he had left as well. As Seungcheol gazed down to Joshua, an old memory crept back into his head and plauged the surface of his brain until he was completely lost in the memory that became a dream as his eyes slipt closed.

18th Of May, 2011:  
It had ripped Seungcheol's heart into little pieces, but, he knew better than to say or do anything about it.

There was a girl who went to his school who was the daughter of one of the gunsmiths - one of the most articulate and intelligent men in the world - who worked in the development and structural design of the machine guns. He did a job no one else on the Asian continent could do, and, he was absolutely loyal with his wavy black hair going silver as he reached his late forties and his thick-glasses and curiously Danish-full lips and thin stubble.

His daughter's name was Hosu, and even though her name was genuinely just the Korean word for Lake, she was God. Her family were Shaman-raised natives and went back in this culture for hundreds of years, nearly a millenium. She was beautiful, she was vicious, she was on of the few Alpha women at their school, and, her intensity was the death and the dreamscape of her. Seungcheol knew it would have done him much good to love her. The boys followed her around like they were under her drug, her scent like granite rocks covered by heatwave monsoon rain. Hosu herself was a drug with her triple-C sized breasts and her 26-inch waist and gorgeous curves that, yes, didn't have her as an Ulzzang, but had her as what she ultimately was:

The Goddess.

She had a very special spot in her Pagan heart for Joshua, who, in a way, clung to her. Even though people assumed they were in some sort of relationship, it was obvious if you looked: the things she did for him and around him, that wasn't the act of a sister, a lover, a friend.

It was a Mum. 

So, Seungcheol had stopped feeling so jealous that he wanted to tear himself apart. There had been a school dance that year for the Spring Solstice. Seungcheol thought three things; it was going to be wild bash though hardly anyone observed their indigenous faith and way of life, Joshua would not be there because it was too wild for his sick body, and, a good little Christian boy didn't mingle at what were essentially pagan festivities.

But, low and behold, Joshua had turned up to the huge party on the school's football oval, dropped off by his Father, and, soon, on Hosu's arm. Hosu had turned heads, and, Seungcheol had waved cheerfully at her, been responded with her beautiful smile; she was wearing a modernised hanbok made of silver and dark grey linen. Her skirt of silver linen was traditional but had a massive slit up to the side, but, her dark grey linen top was traditional, thank God...until she took it off an hour into the party and walked around bare-breasted, much more like the women of the pagan tribes in Europe and the UK. Seungcheol figured that was something to do with his families's worker's Russian wives. 

Dear God.

Hosu had been singing up on the tennis courts with an avid audience, and, Seungcheol had just been going along to see her - the Russian wives of the Choi trading Company had turned up to pick her up for a favour to her Father, and, if the Slavic women heard one bad comment about Hosu, the machine guns and the knives they kept in their cars and their clothes would be out - Seungcheol had spotted Joshua against the wall beside the science block where the courtyard garden was. Seungcheol had stopped to see in. 

To this day, he had never quite known if Joshua had been getting touched up against his will.

It was obvious that Joshua was a bit drunk, and, worse to Seungcheol's knowledge, there had been someone walking away from him. Joshua had turned in the opposite direction, and, there was something so ignorant, so cold, about the gesture that it had infuriated Seungcheol. 

Present:

Seungcheol had yet to save Joshua's life on the football pitch. He didn't know why he had started thinking of something so bizarre, but, he just had. 

Perhaps it was how beautiful Joshua looked, perfect against his chest.

Or how it was because Seungcheol wondered what Joshua would think of him if he only knew. 

Seungcheol sighed softly. He gently carded his fingers through Joshua's hair, wanting to touch him but not wake him up.

"Oon-hol?" Joshua moaned slightly, waking up.

"Hey, Shua." Seungcheol kissed the top of his head. Joshua didn't try to speak anymore as he turned over onto his other side and saw the time on the clock. It had just gone seven 'o' clock. He rolled back over into Seungcheol's arms. Joshua peered up at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Oo-e."

"What was that, love?"

"Oo-e." Joshua repeated.

"Hey?"

"Or Ing-ao."

Seungcheol realised that Joshua was asking about Minghao and Junhui.

"Oh, shit, sorry, sorry, yeah, yeah, I'll go and get Jun, sorry mate." Seungcheol kissed Joshua's head again and carefully climbed out of bed as to not bother Joshua too much. Joshua watched him sleepily for a few moments before cuddling down beneath the covers and calling him back croakily and faintly. Seungcheol crouched down by the floor, and, his blood flowed warm and glowingly in his veins as one of Joshua's hands curved gently around the back of his neck and kissed him softly on the mouth, making Seungcheol's skin burn in a way that felt...sweet.

"Jun, Josh needs you." Seungcheol stuck his head around Junhui's bedroom door, and, he nearly laughed.

Minghao was with Junhui in Junhui's bed, cuddled up to him his his head on Junhui's arm and his hand over Junhui's chest. Both were still asleep, utterly out of it. Seungcheol went back to Joshua. 

"Am I able to help you at all?" Seungcheol asked. "Jun's still out of it."

There was a look of unsurety in Joshua's eyes, but, he sat himself up and nodded. He got his phone and typed up a few sentences in the notes app for Seungcheol.

Under the sink in the bathroom down the hall is a fresh oxygen tank, but, while it is being changed - which I can do - I need to be hooked up to a ventilator with liquid ventolin steroid for fifteen minutes. It's like a wake-me-up.

Seungcheol felt hopeless.

"I'll get your new tank but I'll get him to wake the fuck up." He muttered.

Joshua smiled. 

Eventually, everything was sorted. Minghao cooked in the kitchen with Junhui reading the newspaper, sharing it with Joshua, who was hooked up to a lung-ventilator about the size of a jewelry box which pumped with a soft ticking and whirring noise liquid ventolin steroid up the tranlucent tubes before it was filtered and released into a thick, cloud-like mist of which a tiny bit escaped as Joshua breathed it in through his nose and out through his mouth.

Incredibly, Joshua was still working. In fact, he insisted on it.

"Doesn't HR at the company have something to say about it?" Seungcheol asked Minghao.

"Only what Jihoon and the performers tell them." Minghao had murmuredly answered with a quirked brow.

Oh, so that's how it worked?

No one fucking knew.

Dear God.

Seungcheol grinned.

He thought only his family-men were capable of such deciet and cunning when it came to liberal-voters. He voiced this opinion to Minghao and Junhui as they sat down to have breakfast, and, everyone laughed, even Joshua, but, that was a event in itself. Joshua wasn't meant to laugh with his throat cut open only the evening before, and, it obviously hurt him, but the moment-full of sound he had released was like a distorted, goose-like honk with a underlying "grr" sound. It obviously humiliated Joshua, particularly with Seungcheol being there.

"Hey, it's alright." Junhui rubbed Joshua's back and Minghao got him a glass of water which Joshua barely sipped at. Seungcheol noticed that along with Joshua not eating anything, maybe the surgery was giving him more trouble than he'd happily show.

Seungcheol ended up offering to drive Joshua to work, trying to claw out of obviously been a feckless git. 

They were quiet in the car.

"I thought you couldn't speak after you had one of them." Seungcheol gestured to his throat. "Like Stephen Hawking or something."

Joshua typed out a answer for him on his phone. Mine wasn't to cut out the internal stuff, it was just to open it up so I could breath easier. I had some of my throat cut when I had cancer when I was nineteen; nearly all my adam's apple and some of the vocal cords. That was due to cancer, but, then, worse, I got put on hormone injections because my body couldn't produce blood cells let along anything to do with puberty. It's why I look like a girl and have a bit of a girls' body. The whole thing is fucked really.

"Why can't you eat anything?" Seungcheol asked, feeling a bit sad after reading Joshua's reply.

Liquid diet for the next seven days, Joshua responded. Water, coffee, tea, broth, things like that. Where I swallow food - my esophugus - that's alright, but, I just have to watch how I go for at least a week.

"Sorry I'm not better at all this stuff." Seungcheol apologised. "All of us are the same."

Your family?

"Yeah, love." Seungcheol nodded. Joshua covered Seungcheol's knee with one of his hands.

"Yer goh, Oon-hol." Joshua croakily garbled in a whisper, colour flushing into his cheekbones.

Your good.

"You and your Grandfather have something you want to tell me?" Seungcheol's Father remarked after he finished ripping a new arsehole into their new bank manager - after the old one retired - who didn't seem to understand it was perfectly normal to directly deposit a sum of £80,000 a week into the Choi business account in the bank under his control.

"No, son, why all this?" Grandfather remarked.

"You're eyeballing the back of your grandchild's head with that bloody schemeing look in your eye, you old cunt." Father replied drily.

Grandfather grinned broadly. "All is well, my boy." He patted his son's head with both of his gnarled, rheumatically-swollen hands. "All is absolutely, dashingly well."

"It'd better fucking be." His son grumbled.

"Oh, it should be." Grandfather bustled off, half mumbling to himself now. "I think I do have it all organized...yes. It'll be lovely, my son."


	13. CHAPTER TWELVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshua has one of his best work days while the Choi's and their workers have to contend with the Army drag-racing their tanks, running over their guard dogs, the ignorant force commanders, government officials, dodgy security, the media, ans the miraculous frightening abilities of the horn from a Mercedes Benz W100 600 Grosser. Seungcheol goes on a date and takes Joshua out to the countryside and to the village where his Grandmother was born; Joshua gets a reality check when they bump into Slavic Pagans thar Seungcheol grew up, sisters in all bar blood. It leads to Joshua ans Seungcheol both thinking of their priorities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy, this, it's taken a little while, but, all is well :)

"Hello, how do we feel?" Jihoon took in Joshua's form. Joshua was wearing a black turtleneck jumper to cover up the tracheotomy with his nice grey slim-line trousers; he obligingly pulled down the next of the jumper to show Jihoon the surgery

"Gooh." Joshua managed. Jihoon smiled, rubbing Joshua's shoulders for a few moments.

"I had a quick chat with the guys, and, we came up with a skeleton discography arrangement that we think we like." Jihoon told him, and pulled one of the swivel chairs over for him by the mixing board. "Wanna listen with headphones or out in the open?"

Joshua mimed for headphones.

Meanwhile, at the Choi factories and yard, things were rather less tame.

"THOSE IMMATURE CUNTS!" Seungcheol yelled, grabbing a machine gun off a holster in the main manufacturing factory, eight of their Russian workers following in behind him while Seungcheol's Father brought out on the two hunting machetes that they also made, the look of the Antichrist in his eyes. 

Some of the Army soliders with Government officials in tow - as fucking always - had come to the Choi's yard to have practice-driving laps around the yard. The three generations of Choi men had been too busy smoudlering viciously over the interference of the Liberal-party siding officials, when, all hell had broken loose.

The late-twenties army soldiers had decided to be fuckheads. They were driving the tanks around like retards, and, in the process, not one but two of their alsation guard dogs were now smeared like luncheon-meat spread over the ribbed wheels of the thirty-ton machines, and, the fucking soliders were still driving. 

Chaos utterly erupted. All the government officials started running around and screaming into their phones, but, even their own security were backed down by the animalistic roars of Russian and Yugoslav by the Choi workers as Seungcheol and his Father with their group proceeded outside.

None of the Army commanders were supervising. They were all in another factory talking shit and having a coffee, probably, as the useless cunts usually always did.

Seungcheol fired twenty rounds into the air, and, attracted the attention of the two tanks doing the laps. Their breaks came on, and, the orange-red dust of the driving yard swirled around them. There was no point shooting at the tanks. The glass around the windows were three inches think and utterly imprenetrable.

The Slavic workers and his Father moved over to teach the soldiers a lesson they would never forget while Seungcheol turned around to see his Grandfather doing his nut in the office on the phone - calling up the workers and the commanders in the other factory - and the government workers and their security running towards him.

For good measure, Seungcheol re-enabled the machine gun and pointed it at them. They all stopped. "Your soliders had done fucking wrong on my land." He said. "If you expect us to bow down to you, you sub-human cunts can fuck off." He growled. "Learn to fucking behave when you're coming to the Kings, eh?"

Not a single peep was heard from them.

Not a great deal of people took on the Army and won the battle.

It was suitably less dramatic at the Pledis Music Company studios.

Joshua grinned at the sight of the lead singer dancing around shirtless and harrassing the electric guitarist as they made a rehearsal for one of their songs which they were also producing at the same time. Quietly, inside of him, though he was happy at work, he kept thinking about Seungcheol.

Wanting Seungcheol.

...

Longing for him.

Oh.

That was new.

That was really new.

When they all had lunch, Joshua didn't have anything, and, he just went and wrote. The grey mood over the band was lifting with each day; it was good. Perhaps unkind to say considering what had happened, but, it couldn't be any other way.

Hey, girl, why are you

Causing and wrecking fashion whilst full of South-American bong

And using other people's faces as a mirror for you

I know your heart needs fire since your soul got burnt out by liars cheating 

That dancing won't ever quite get you back on again

And where'd you get that car

My irreverent Grandfather is starting to re-begin himself

And do you still have that darned dress your Nanna fixed for you

On a Wednesday when I forgot to call on your home

Don't please ever stop calling me up

And you're getting jolly with the things going on in my mind

Your lipstick on my skin is taking me over a second time

I don't have the capacity to slap the bitches in your class but 

You come down and hurt me when I'm helpin' you

When I sat down to dinner and we both forgot our money

I lied to the maitre 'd and it took us a little while to realize that we're losers

Don't please ever stop calling me up

Don't stop calling me up

No one at the Choi's dared call up the rozzer's. If there was ever to be an unforgiveable sin, it would be that.

The Choi's were at work until Midnight with the government officials making a mountain out of a molehill. The matter had been that their soliders were idiotic cunts who got told off. Simple as that. But, oh no, there had to be a scene.

And, now, for the second time in only a matter of weeks, the media was on their doorstep.

"There's only one thing for it boys." Grandfather plotted. "We sleep here overnight or we go to our respective homes in the tanks."

Seungcheol's Father swore his head nearly entirely off while Seungcheol had the sense of humor to smile.

"We'll just take one of the Range Rovers."

"For fuck's sake, not the one with the Colonel Bogey horn, we'll be viewed internationally as idiots."

"No, take the one with the horn out of the Mercedces W100 600 Grosser."

Seungcheol and his Father looked to Grandfather.

That was an idea.

Because, the horn from the Mercedes W100 600 was the loudest horn in the world.

A slow smile spread over Seungcheol's Father's face.

"Yeah, pa." He decided. "We'll do that."

Joshua had smelt really nice when he had come home. He had smelt sweet. Like September rain falling down onto a flower garden. Minghao had watched Junhui swoon after Joshua like he was on drugs as Joshua moved around the apartment. Now, all of them in bed, the scent still lingered. Minghao knew Junhui was probably masturbating himself off to within an inch of his life in his bedroom, and, Minghao knew Joshua would be sleeping soundly. Minghao just knew that Joshua had had a good day, seeing his eyes when he had come home. And, all good days ended with tired eyes, early nights.

And Junhui cuddling him and running his fingertips over Joshua's neck and collarbones earlier when Joshua was doing some typing on his laptop for his band earlier while Junhui caught the news would have relaxed him right down. 

"Alright, fine! You wanna horn race?!" Seungcheol's Grandfather shouted out of the window of the Mercedes Benz W100 600 Grosser at the flourage of television journalists and other media, his son in the passenger seat of the downright titanic vehicle and his grandson in the back seats. "You've got it, sweetheart!  
Joshua's eyes shot open at the faint sound of what sounded like the loudest horn in the world blasting away.

No, it couldn't be...

It seemed so far away yet so close. 

Joshua sat up in bed and looked out of the window.

There was nothing to see. 

The next evening, Seungcheol stopped by to see Joshua.

"I thought about bringing flowers but I didn't know if that would get me dropped or not." He confessed. Joshua smiled widely. He nodded, but then jutted a thumb at Junhui who was half-asleep on the couch. 

"Well, if it's not a crime, would you care to step out with me?" Seungcheol bowed and then offered his arm like a English gentleman. Joshua rolled his eyes and slapped his chest. He held up his hand as a waiting gesture and went off to get his shoes and coat. 

Joshua carried his oxygen tank in his arms as they went to Seungcheol's Bentley. Joshua smiled. He loved Seungcheol's Phantom, but, there was something more attractive about the Bentley Continental; maybe because it was the first luxury supercar he had ever been in, had ever been able to drive.

First ride in there with Seungcheol.

It was just little things. Little connections.

"Ow wrr er ay?" Joshua asked croakily and distortedly to Seungcheol. How was your day? It was only the third or fourth time that day he had spoken. It might seem like much or not a lot, but, when you were removed from what was a normality, it was a disconcerting thing.

Seungcheol smiled. "You won't believe what happened." He said. He didn't tell Joshua about the loose tanks and the idiotic army personal and the ignorant commanders and the government officials that just about shat themselves. He told him instead and old story but pretended like it had been that day. The purchase of the Mercedes Benz W100 600 Grosser with that notorious fucking horn.

Joshua laughed, and, even though it was a horrific sound, Seungcheol's chest felt warm. Because it was Josh. His Josh.

"Ih ih weal-e a louest orn inna worl?" Joshua chuckled. Is it really the loudest horn in the world? Seungcheol nodded frankly.

"It's fucking unbelieveable." Seungcheol told Joshua and flicked up the V's to a twat in a BMW that cut him off at a roundabout. Joshua shrunk down in his seat slightly but laughed even more. "If you blasted that horn in Dresden you'd be able to hear it in St. Petersburg."

"Da awwee soun weal-e kooh." Joshua grinned. That actually sounds really cool. 

"Want the radio on?" Seungcheol offered.

"Don ooo argh ooh er hone ah via da boo-toof sys-om?" Joshua commented. Don't you just hook your phone up via the bluetooth system?

"To be honest, I never figured out how to do it in this car." Seungcheol replied. Joshua burst out laughing. 

"Ooh so dumb buh ooh a nie guy oh ah hink ooh an be forgiven." Joshua reached over and lightly pinched the top of one of Seungcheol's ears. You're so dumb but you're a nice guy so I think you can be forgiven. Joshua's fingertips ghosted over the side of Seungcheol's neck as he pulled away. "E-in dum nie guy-ah deser to be hel." Even dumb nice guys deserve to be held. 

Seungcheol's head become filled with stars.

He took Joshua for a drive out of the city with it's smog and pollution and skyscrapers out into the countryside with it's green wildgrass fields and crisp, clean air and silver-opaline sky.

"Ouh-ih ah see-eh ih gooh ba ah don lie bug lie spi-ah in kissmas bee-il. Eyre aw-ool. Apehalee in ah suh-her-tie." Joshua said to Seungcheol. Outside the city is good but I don't like bugs like spiders and christmas beetles. They're awful. Especially in the summertime. For a couple of minutes Seungcheol put the windows down in the Bentley and let the fresh air passing over the car into the car itself itself. Joshua closed his eyes and leant back into the seat and the head-rest, smiling slightly as he enjoyed the breeze. He put the seat back a few degrees, and, he went off to sleep. 

Seungcheol gently woke him up when they came into a village that Seungcheol's Great-Grandmother had been born in, and, really, was a very pretty little place of the South Korean countryside.

Pity it was full of cunts.

"Namulo-Mandeun is a really nice place, I thought we'd stop here, have a look around." Seungcheol said to Joshua when the other man's eyes fluttered open and caught sight of Seungcheol's hand resting on his knee, Seungcheol having been squeezing it a bit, in an out, re-applied pressure, to bring Joshua around without startling him. Joshua peered out through the windows.

The village was gorgeous, built up onto a hill in the middle of forests with the overcast sky sending down swirling pools of low-hanging cloud and fog. Despite the wintery-like conditions, Joshua thought it looked cool. 

"Ooh be ere be-ore?" Joshua asked. You've been here before?

"Yeah, one of my Grandmother's was born down here and we still have the house she had when she was a little girl and the one she moved into when she married my Grandfather." Seungcheol said. "It's lovely around here."

Joshua nodded, and, for the next couple of hours, they walked around, seeing the stone-paved streets and the ancient buildings and the numerous old temples; Seungcheol pointed out the houses and shops of people he knew, and houses he wouldn't mind buying if they were somewhere else. Joshua asked him why wouldn't he just have it here.

"Oh, place is full of sub-human cunts." Seungcheol replied breezily, kissing Joshua's cheek. Seungcheol ignored the way that Joshua's face fell slightly. Truth was truth; and if Joshua was going to be around him, time he got used to it. "You're not cold are you?"

Joshua shook his head. Seuncheol slipped an arm around Joshua's waist, and, they walked along up a hill together. 

"BABY!"

Both Seungcheol and Joshua looked around to see, what to Joshua would have been the daughters of the Antichrist, and, to Seungcheol, his sisters in everything but blood.

Zima, Vesna, Ptitsa, and Okean Morova waved at him. They were the mix-raced granddaughter's of Ivan Morova, Ivan Morova's Mother having been Korean, but the girls' quarter-blood Father marrying a Korean woman, so, the Korean racial gene had been introduced a bit again despite the Russian paternity line going down. Their brother Burya wasn't with them. Everyone used to say that poor old Burya Morova lived at "Petticoat Lane" with all his sisters. Butts would one day replace his grandfather at the Choi's business.

"How are my bitches, today?!" Seungcheol shouted down merrily to them and jogged down the hill to the four sisters. Zima and Vesna were twins, and, then, Ptitsa and Okean were the "Irish Twins", only about a year-and-a-half apart.

The girls acted like they didn't have a single bit of Korean in them, to be perfectly honest. They all ran around in their calico-linen dresses of either black, blue, pink, cream or grey with their embroidered fabric strips tied around their heads or necks or hips and their feet bare. Ptitsa and Okean were Betas, Zima was an Alpha, and, poor old Vesna was a Omega. Seungcheol saw Joshua staring as, after Zima had kissed and hugged Seungcheol, her Alpha instincts - along with her just been a Russian woman - kicked in and she took in Joshua's person animalistically-gazing and deep. Vesna held onto Seungcheol for longer, his head resting against his shoulder while Ptitsa and Okean called up hello's to Joshua.

"He's a bible-basher." Seungcheol explained when Joshua just remained still and silent.

"You idiot." Zima slapped him around the face. Ptitsa and Okean stepped in to make sure a proper fight didn't break out, and, Vesna nestled into closer to Seungcheol, getting inside his coat with him.

"I got to go, but, I'll see you later, see you all soon." Seungcheol kissed all of them again, and, rushed back up to Joshua. 

All the girls started to sing, except Zima who, kept her dark and vicious eyes fixed on Joshua, wanting to hunt him, kill him.

"So love me or leave me

Make you're choice but believe me

I love you

I do, I do, I do, I do, I do, I do..."

"I'm so fucking sorry, but they absolutely love ABBA." Seungcheol whispered to Joshua, grinning broadly.

"Ah hin ah wan ah goh ome." Joshua said to Seungcheol, his eyes wary and uncertain and unhappy. I think I want to go home.

Seungcheol gazed at him. "They're my family." He said, pointing around to the girls who had walked off in the distance, still singing ABBA. "They're my girls." 

"Noh, eyre noh." Joshua answered. No, they're not. "Eyre ah noh womin." They are not women. "Eyre sa-age." They're savages. "Eyre feak, Oon-hol." They're freaks, Seungcheol.

"Well, here's a lesson for you, then." Seungcheol told Joshua. "Those girls, you see as freaks, as savages, are worth nearly £22,000,000." Joshua's eyes flew open wide. "They own all the department stores in Russia that are rented out to Chanel, Dior, Moschino, Burberry, Givenchy, and their Grandfather is one of the best ammunition technicians to have ever lived. They kill paedophile Catholic priests for fun, and, trust me, where you sub-human scum are concerned, a full hunt can be constructed each and every day, and there'd still be hundreds and thousands of you festering shit left over."

Seungcheol's hand was tight around Joshua's elbow as they walked back to the Bentley.

"Move." Seungcheol growled as people crowded around the car, all having a look. Once inside, Seungcheol didn't look once at Joshua, just driving through the village and out of it through the mountains. 

"What is it?" Seungcheol said drily when he noticed Joshua glance at him just the once out of the corner of his eye. 

Everything in him changed when he saw Joshua's blotchy grey and pink skin and his red eyes and one of his hands trembling and how stuck and ill he looked. Seungcheol pulled over to the side of the road, and, as he went to touch Joshua, reach out for him, Joshua shifted over to the other side of passenger seat of the Bentley. 

"Wy ooh ah to be lie is?" Joshua said to Seungcheol, affected and obiously afraid of him and upset. Why do you have to be like this?

"You just insult my fucking family, of course I'm going to fucking bite!" Seungcheol snarled. "If you were a decent fucking human being, you could have come down, said hello to the girls, it would have been fine. Instead, you just carry on like a idiot, and, then, you just sulk."

"Ah noh no hoo ooh ah!" Joshua exclaimed, the fear finally becoming too much and the tears overflowing from his eyes. This situation he was in, there was nothing he could do to get out of it. I don't know who you are. "Ah guy hoo sae ma lie oohn ah foo-all pi-ih ah dae ih noh ooh now." Joshua looked at Seungcheol, breathing heavily, unable to control anything. It was terrifying. And nothing could stop it. The guy who saved my life on the football pitch isn't who you are now. "Ah noh noh ooh." Joshua shook his head, his eyes and lips and throat feeling swollen and bruised and hurt. I don't know you. "Ah noh noh hoo ooh e'en fukin' ah." Joshua shifted around back in the passenger seat, leaning his elbow against the door by the window and his forehead against his hair pushing his hair back slightly, his eyes closing. I don't know who you even fucking are.

They both lapsed into silence. 

"Ah ahe 'is." Joshua whispered, rubbing his hand over his face, the one that had been pressed against his forehead, the tears across his cheekbones and under his eyes getting smeared away. I hate this. Seungcheol took in the tiny details of Joshua's lips as they moved to the words, the way his eyelashes stuck up and the hairs of his brows had done also the same thing when he had wiped his hand over his face. Joshua didn't look at Seungcheol, but, instead, looked out of the window, his eyes flickering up at the side of the mountain and the trees and the rockfaces. It began to rain, specks coming onto the windscreen, but, then, heavy drops. Seungcheol thought about Joshua's rain-scent, and, nearly smiled. All the girls would giggle and laugh and say he's secretly a water spirit. He makes the rain, he smells like the rain, he partly is the rain. "Wyen't hins beh nie ah noh ool owa-ool?" Why can't things be nice and not all horrible? Joshua's eyes suddenly looked to Seungcheol's eyes, and, they were so different. Seungcheol's were hard and cool and temperate, and, Joshua's were thick and dark and glossed over. Seungcheol was just waiting for something to change, something to form, whereas Joshua just couldn't get out of it. "Ah shouh us beh weh Ing-ao or Un-ee." Joshua's hand pressed back against his forehead again, and, his tone was so soft that Seungcheol nearly didn't hear what he had said. I should just be with Minghao or Junhui. The single setence made something in Seungcheol harden significantly. No bloody way, he thought.

"No, you shouldn't." Seungcheol opened the glovebox and got out a packet of tissues that his Father had thrown in once for Joshua. He offered them to Joshua, but, when Joshua shrunk away from him, Seungcheol swore bitterly and threw the packet down to the floor by Joshua's feet, making Joshua flinch. "You should be with me." Seungcheol sighed. He relaxed back into his seat, all energy suddenly leaving him. He and Joshua were silent for a few more moments. "I love you." Seungcheol said. Joshua's head snapped around to look at him directly, but, Seungcheol just looked over the steering wheel to the wet mountain road ahead. "I've loved you for the past ten years." Seungcheol smiled very, very softly, but, it was faded away a second later. Joshua's lips had parted silently, gazing heavily at him. "There's never been anyone else; Christian, Pagan, Muslim, Bhuddist, Atheist, man, woman, alpha, beta, omega, anglo, negro, asian, serbian, eskimo - what the fuck ever." Seungcheol returned a little bit to his former, gruffer, Alpha self, but, the tender and honest sincerity wasn't lost. "I never quite knew if you'd had died or not, or, whether it would come about for you. I care about you so much. You were always alone, always by yourself, and, you remember Hosu?" Seungcheol glanced to Joshua. Joshua's skin had paled. "Well, she's the cousin to those girls you saw me with earlier. You adored her. You needed her. She used to look after you all the time. Do you rgeret that now? Does that ashame you?" Seungcheol looked away from Joshua as Joshua looked down. "Anyway...I've always wanted you, always needed you." Seungcheol ran his hand through his hair. "And when me and Minghao were having a chat while you were in under the knife, I said to him, that'd be the fucking problem. Pagans don't hurt anything, don't cause wars, don't abuse women and children and men. Me being pagan or having that background would not hurt at all. But, the moment you step in with your Jewish shit - and it is just Jewish shit, you're God is a Jew even though he's not real - there'd be a problem." Seungcheol sighed. "And that's alright. You were raised as you were, so, therefore, you have that behaviour, mannerisms, thought, perception, you have that angle on the things you do and don't choose. That's fine. It's who you are, Joshua Hong." Seungcheol swallowed. "But, like you put down earlier, the lovliest, respectful, honourable, kind, loving, intelligent, strongest women in the world are savages, freaks." Seungcheol looked to Joshua firmly. "I'd tell you get the fuck out of my car but you'd just be alone again, and, there's no one else to help you or take you home from this point, here, right? I almost wish we had never bumped into the girls, but, you know what? You could be a much better man, Joshua Hong."

Seungcheol started up the car again, and drove home. Despite having growled at him earlier, Seungcheol helped Joshua out of the car and walked him up to his apartment.

But, just as they got into the hallway, Joshua's thin hands curved up over Seungcheol's chest and around his neck, and, he kissed him. Joshua's lips slid over Seungcheol's before pressing up against his firmly, his hands then sliding into Seungcheol's hair. Seungcheol's hands went to Joshua's hips, and, he put Joshua back against the wall of the hallway by the window, two of them going further than they had before.

Seungcheol couldn't believe it. Here was Joshua wanting him, needing him, even though he had done wrong earlier; Seungcheol had put him down, and had put him down hard. Joshua's hands clutched Seungcheol close to him and scarcely wanted him to part for a moment to breathe. Joshua's fingertips were hot on Seungcheol's skin and pressed into him hardly. It made Seungcheol never want to let him go, even though he had had never had the true thought of doing so, anyway. Seungcheol, as far as today had gone, he just thought that it was the end; one hissy-fit from Joshua and it was all over. It would be weak, pathetic. 

Seungcheol had thought that Joshua would storm through the stairs and into his apartment, then, Minghao and Junhui would be glaring out at Seungcheol himself in his car through the window in the sitting room as he drove away. 

Maybe the old faith was truly right.

Once the Christians had a taste of the Pagan, they couldn't leave it. It spoke to them inside, what all their Christianity and it's culture and it's idol had pushed down. It was the re-birth of being a human being.

And who on Earth would let that slip through their fingers?


	14. CHAPTER THIRTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshua talks to Minghao and Junhui about going out with Seungcheol, and, Seungcheol rescues his drunk Grandfather who crashed his car into a field, and then went on his merry way to a train station and just got on with a bottle of Bollinger in his jacket. Things get hot between Joshua and Seungcheol in the bath with the promise of sex later, while, Soonyoung gets taken to hospital suffering multiple seizures

Joshua came back inside absolutely covered in Seungcheol's cigarette smoke scent.

For a moment, both Junhui and Minghao had thought that there was something burning in the house, or, more terrifyingly, somewhere else in the apartment block. 

"You had a nice time, then?" Minghao mustered up as Joshua stumbled into the apartment before neatly flopping down onto the couch.

"Ie." Joshua whispered. Yes. "Ah found ow a oh o oh Oon-hol's a-ow." I found out a lot of what Seungcheol's about.

"All's well?" Junhui checked, brows creasing together.

"...Ie, Ah in so." Joshua smiled a little bit. Yes, I think so. "...ie, ah ae oh, ah a lon ah ah keh ey fukin' mow hut." Yes, I'd say so, just as long as I keep my fucking mouth shut

Minghao and Junhui looked at each other. "You what?" They said to Joshua. 

"Noh, ih ah-k, ih ine." Joshua said. No, it's ok, it's fine.

"No, it's bloody not." Minghao told him.

"I'll get you a new tank." Junhui checked the levels on the canister before moving about.

"What do you mean about keeping your mouth shut?" Minghao said urgently to Joshua. Joshua just chuckled. He gazed at Minghao.

"Ell ooh ore ow ih sun en y bohy eal ore." Joshua promised Minghao. Tell you about it soon when my body heals up more. "Ooh noh em ill goanna gar-ill tall or-err, rhyw?" Joshua looked over Minghao's face as Minghao concerntreated on listening to him, and, in his own way, Minghao searched through Joshua as well. You know I'm still going to garble-talk forever, right? "Ah oh noh un ae; f wyne iz geh e beh ooh weh-mihon sae, ill, ah su-oh eyre koz oah aein beh ah noh noh." Joshua said. That's what no one says; if trying this gets me back to re-mission state, well, I suppose they'll close my throat up again but I don't know. "Eh-we-hin all...way anjin, ah, ih argh. Ah, ooo ah ooh." Joshua touched Minghao's face. Everything's always changing, and, it's so hard. And, look at you. "Ooh d...noh eein noh ae ah aein." 

You don't even know what I'm saying.

All the while, Seungcheol had only just let himself into his house and put the Bentley away when his phone started ringing. It was his Grandfather.

Seungcheol prayed that all shit hadn't hit the an over something. 

"Hey, pa, everything alright?" He asked as he picked up the call.

"Oh, dear lad, everything is absolutely splendid!"

His Grandfather was pissed.

Seungcheol grinned a bit. "Grandad, you've had a wee bit too much to drink."

A enormous belch on the other end of the line had Seungcheol launched into a fit of hsyterical laughter. "Oof, dear me, son, sorry, that wasn't exceptionally polite."

"Ah, it's alright, Pa, we're all men." Seungcheol replied.

"My Grandmother - you're great-great grandmother - God, that woman had the stomach of a man, I swear. One day she let out a fart that caused as much distress as Hiroshima." Grandfather remarked.

Seungcheol laughed even more, half-covering his face with one of his hands. "Oh, you're a legend, Pa."

"Too fuckin' right, love." The old man made a happy sort of grumbling sound. "Hows that boy with the cancer doing?"

"It's not just cancer he has, but, yeah, he's doing alright." Seungcheol told his Grandfather everything that had happened. Except the snogging. The man was born in 1927, for goodness sake. 

"You liked him when you were at school, didn't you?" His Grandfather commented. Seungcheol didn't really say anything. He wasn't sure where this was going.

"What do you mean by that, 'Dad?" Seungcheol asked.

"Nothing, lad, just want to have a chat with you." Grandfather said.

"Well, if we're getting like that would you just want to come around?" Seungcheol suggested.

"I was hoping you'd say that." Grandfather sighed.

"Why?" Seungcheol rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm on the M something-a-rather that comes around to your place after a couple of miles. I accidentally got myself going out of the city. I was on the main road for twenty minutes before I got back in." The old man explained.

Seungcheol smiled to himself, affection flowing for his Grandfather.

What'd he do without his Grandad?

What'd the world do in general without Grandad's?

"Sure you can, Pa. Door'll be open for you and the kettle'll be..." Seungcheol trailed off. "Why the fuck are you driving if you're half-pissed?"

"I wasn't a little bit tipsy when I started, but, I thought it best to get myself a traveller." Grandfather remarked.

"What the fuck is going on with you?" Seungcheol snapped, worry filling him up. His Grandfather...drink-driving? No. He hated all drink-driver's, and, even just the concept of the crime.

"Son, I'm not in a car now...I'm on a train." His Grandfather told him.

"What...where's your car?" Seungcheol asked.

His Grandfather hummed cheerfully. "...A field?" He said in almost a sing-song voice.

Seungcheol's mouth dropped open. The clear mental image of his ageing Grandfather on a city train with a bottle of bollinger and a mobile phone he couldn't really use filled up his head.

Of everything. Of absolutely bloody everything.

"Do you know which line you're on?" Seungcheol asked, grabbing his car keys. "Comin' to get you right fucking now, oh my God...really, Pa? You're ninety-three. Ninety-fucking-three!"

"I'm allowed to be a bit stupid at ninety-three." Grandfather said matter-of-factly.

Seungcheol scoffed. "Yeah! You don't fuckin' say?!"

On the other side of the city, Joshua relaxed into a very hot and deep bath. Junhui sat on the bath-mat beside the tub and they talked a bit. Junhui was an expert when it came to lip-reading, having done training in pallitive care for throat and lung cancer patients who had the same current difficulties as Joshua.

Joshua had told Junhui all about what happened with Seungcheol.

"Well, Pagans aren't angels."

You know what we get taught about Pagans? Joshua said silently.

Junhui shook his head.

Don't go anywhere near them, because they will kill you, Joshua told Junhui. Junhui chuckled softly.

"No offence mate, but, I think that's the only time the Church has been honest about any-fucking-thing." Junhui reached out and stroked his hand down Joshua's face. "Do you want him?"

I do and I know it's wrong, Joshua said. It's much easier, just me moving my mouth rather than making sound? He smiled. He leaned into Junhui's touch and his eyes slipped close. You're so good to me; you and Minghao are. No one else on Earth would care this much. I don't deserve you two

"Too right you fucking don't." Junhui's mouth quirked up crookedly. Joshua's eyes opened up to half-lids and looked at Junhui.

Thank you, Joshua said.

"For what?"

Making a half-decent kisser out of me, Joshua grinned. Junhui rolled his eyes and simultaneously wriggled his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. Joshua laughed, the same croaky sound Minghao and Junhui were now getting more and more familiar with once more.

"Someone had to, eh?" Junhui slid his thumb across Joshua's upper lip, pressing it in a slight tug before pulling away when Joshua's scent changed. "Can't be doing that, now, not with your arms dealer beau." Junhui winked and clicked his tongue. Joshua chuckled.

You think this is hilarious, don't you? Joshua remarked.

Junhui shrugged. "I think he's a nice bloke, put it that way." Junhui considered Joshua. "And you were a bit of a cunt, you know that right?"

Joshua nodded.

"And you know how you say people shouldn't say bad things about anyone's religion?"

Joshua nodded again.

"You just proved that all bible-bashers are hypocritical, lying, irreverent cunts by behaving like you did over the Pagan girls." Junhui raised an eyebrow coolly.

Is there an Alpha that isn't non-Christian? Joshua said aloud.

"No, because we along with Betas aren't weak and submissive and, besides, we know better as the more powerful class of man." Junhui answered him.

Joshua scowled. Why are you so on Seungcheol's side?

"Because the man's right and if you knew what's good for you, if you could remember which side of your bread is buttered, you'd see that no other man does more for you and cares for you more than he does."

What about you and Hao? Joshua said.

"Me and Hao are your friends, and, we're not someone that's been in love with you for the last ten years and buying the Sunday Telegraph every week to see if your name was in the obiturary column." Junhui replied.

What? Joshua's brows furrowed slightly.

"We had a bit of a chat, me, Hao and Cheol. For the last seven years he bought the Sunday Telegraph every weekend to read the obiturary columns and see if your name was in there because all good little Christian families publish the deaths in the paper." Junhui told Joshua that bit of information.

Joshua coloured in a way that was bitter. He didn't need to know this, but, Junhui didn't cut it out.

"You should treasure that man." Junhui added. "You'll never do any better than Choi Seungcheol.

On the other side of the city, Seungcheol was driving his Grandfather back to his house, the old man singing Tom Jones beneath his breath, the empty Bollinger bottle in hand.

"You're the devil, you are." Seungcheol told him. 

"And the lady is mine..." His Grandfather softly mumbled. 

Seungcheol saw Joshua again three days. But, by this time, Joshua was having absolute kittens.

"Wye ih-nh anning aye ess ah all ah e-eeh-in?!" Joshua screeched to Minghao and Junhui on the third day. His distorted and garbled speech got even worse when he was having a fit over something. Why isn't he answering my texts or calls or anything. "Wah ih e - oh fuh-in Kye! Ah houl ah keh aye ow huh abouh ih iher ah wha-eher eyre ah!" Joshua stressed even more. What if he - oh fucking Christ! I should have kept my mouth shut about his sisters or whatever they are.

"Yes, you should have, love." Junhui commented while Minghao tried to calm Joshua down.

"I'm sure there's a reason." Minghao said to Joshua. 

"NOH!" Joshua's eyes went wide as he exclaimed. No. "Eyre noh hue ah-lah eeh aay me!" There's no excuse unless he hates me.

"Maybe he's just been busy; look at what he has in his day to day life." Junhui remarked sensibly.

"Ah oh fuh-in an-er an ah enal ervoo eh-ihm deorher an fuhed orh-an an yeh ah all-weh mae ah im or ihm -" Joshua began, but, Junhui interjected. I've got fucking cancer and a central nervous system disorder and fucked organs and yet I always make the time for him -

"And then say his family are savages and are not even human." Junhui quipped. Joshua gave up trying to speak and just yelled at him. 

"Will everyone shut up before someone calls the police, for God's sake?!" Minghao was nearly tearing his hair out.

Later at work at the music studios, Joshua asked Jihoon if he knew anything was going on.

"Yeah, he's been helping me out." Jihoon said. Joshua knew Jihoon would never have any idea how much of a relief that was to him. "He's got some lawyers for Soonyoung and Seokmin's claim about their house falling down on them and their poisoning. Oh, they're alright with that." Jihoon added. "They had some blood taken off them, they're on some medication for the next six months, and, some sort of needle once a week. It's just to really get it out of their system."

"Gooh." Joshua said. Good.

Jihoon smiled a little bit with a nod. "Are you panicking because you haven't heard from him?" He chuckled as Joshua shifted awkwardly.

"He's been after you for ten years, relax." Jihoon comforted Joshua.

"Ah ne-er ouh ah hah den yeh." Joshua confessed. I never thought I'd have ten years.

Jihoon looked to him. "Neither did Cheol." Jihoon answered.

Joshua was in the bath when Seungcheol came around to see him.

"He's been panicking." Minghao said as he opened the door and saw Seungcheol on the doorstep.

"About what?" Seungcheol looked at him.

"You." Minghao remarked pointedly.

"Why?" Seungcheol said.

"You're ignoring him." Minghao told him coldly and as thought it was obvious.

"I wasn't ignoring him, I've got a business to run and I'm sorting out solicitors for fucking Soonyoung and Seokmin who need the best they can possibly get!" Seungcheol barked angrily.

Junhui laughed somewhere else in the house. "Hao, stop been an old woman and let the poor guy inside, right?" He called out.

"I'm not being an old woman." Minghao snapped.

"No, you actually are an old woman." Junhui answered.

Just as Minghao's eyes glared at him, Junhui appeared behind Minghao. He murmured something to Minghao in Mandarin, and, his hand slipped around Minghao's throat just beneath his chin. Minghao came away from the doorway in Junhui's grip, and Junhui shouted a hello to Seungcheol and told him to come right in.

"Third door on the left." Junhui answered when Seungcheol asked him where Joshua was.

Seungcheol hadn't remembered that in the lay-out of the apartment, the third door on the let was the bathroom. 

Joshua's mouth came open as the door to the bathroom opened. amdist the steam and the heat of the room in general from the heat-lamps and the deafening efffects of the fan, Joshua connected up to his oxygen tank looked like a vision. 

"Oon-hol?" Joshua croaked out. Seungcheol.

Seungcheol couldn't help himself. He closed the door behind him and went over to the bath. He knelt down on the mat beside the tub, and, one of his hands snaked around the back of Joshua's neck before he kissed him. Joshua's skin was wet and hot, and, his scent filled up Seungcheol's skull. 

His nails accidentally scratched down the back of Joshua's neck as he drew Joshua's body as close to him to the edge of the tub as he could go. Seungcheol's was on his knees, above Joshua in the bath, and, frankly, all his instincts were screaming at him to just strip and get into the water with Joshua and have him. 

Joshua gasped against his mouth, one of his wet, hot hands curving around the crook of Seungcheol's bone and neck. His skin felt like fire, his being obviously so desired. 

Joshua pulled back when he finally couldn't breathe, and, instead, Seungcheol's tongue harshly ran over a spot on his neck, and, Joshua was terrified for a split second that Seungcheol would mark him, absolutely cover him, but, Seungcheol's didn't. Seungcheol pulled back as well and collapsed down onto the bat, sitting with his legs crossed and one of his elbows up on the edge of the tub, hand shoved into his hair. Joshua knew it would have taken every functioning synapse of Seungcheol's being to not do as he wanted to.

"Has it really been ten years?" Joshua asked.

"What?" Seungcheol's chest fell up and down heavily.

"You after me - has it really been ten years?" Joshua repeated with a new sense of urgency. 

Seungcheol nodded vaguely.

"I'll come around later tonight." Joshua promised. "We'll do it tonight at your place."

On the other side of the city, Jihoon woke up to sound of a yell made by who he just definitely knew was Soonyoung. He rushed out of his bedroom to Soonyoung's bedroom to find Soonyoung trembling and pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

"I...my whole body came off the bed, started shaking..." Soonyoung barely got out. "I think I had a seizure or something..."

"Get in the car, we're going to the hospital." Jihoon said immediately. 


	15. CHAPTER FOURTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soonyoung is taken to hospital with after-illness induced seizures and sleep issues, and, Jihoon is less than impressed with the South Korean NHS; meanwhile, Joshua goes around to Seungcheol's to have sex with him for the first time, but, unbeknownst to Seungcheol, Joshua's very first time in all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really into slowed down music; I think I could just about create a soundtrack for this work

"So, he's not having a reaction to the medication?" Seokmin said. Jihoon and Seokmin were talking to the Doctor outside the private room Soonyoung was temporarily in. Both were half in their pyjamas, bloody tired, and, no one could tell them what the fuck was going on basically.

"Not precisely, his blood pressure has been elevated due to the medication and it's resulting in his central nervous system making him have fits, basically." The Doctor, a man in his mid-thirties, answered.

"So, how can we fix it?" Jihoon quipped.

"As long as it's not distressing him too much..." The Doctor shifted his hands up and down.

"You are fucking kidding me, it's 2019, really?!" Jihoon was about an inch away from doing his nut.

"I'm sorry about your friend, but there's nothing we can do apart from give a sedative medication -" The Doctor attempted to speak again, but, Seokmin interjected as Jihoon looked as though he wanted to bash the Doctor's face in.

"We'll be fine, thanks." Seokmin said.

p>As Jihoon drove them all home fast in a bitter temper, Seungcheol raced around his house making sure everything was perfect and there were definitely no guns lying around for when Joshua came around. He felt like he was on drugs, he was so alive. Joshua was practically dangerous, capable of making him like this, making his skin buzz electrically. Seungcheol couldn't help making himself high thinking of all the things that he could do with Joshua, that he wanted to do with Joshua. 

An hour later, Seungcheol heard the thrumming roar of a motorcycle, and, then, the doorbell went. He raced to get it. He was greeted with the sight of Joshua in motorcycle leathers and holding a helmet under his arm and his oxygen tank beside his leg. He grinned warmly.

"Beh-woh Un-ui bigh." Joshua said. Borrowed Junhui's bike.

Suenghcoel slipped one of his arms around Joshua's waist and the other at the back of his neck and kissed him. Joshua's bones stuck out sharply beneath his skin, like pieces of shattered fine china littering the ground. Joshua's hands curved over the shape of Seungcheol's shoulders at the crook of his elbow and neck, and, he willingly parted his lips for Seungcheol to be able to slip his tongue inside and run the tip of his tongue across the bottom edges and the backs of Joshua's front teeth. 

The scent of rain and of the Winter air filled up Seungcheol's senses, kissing Joshua so hard, too hard, that he felt the oxyegn tubes for Joshua's lungs brush against his face, and, he left no room for Joshua to be in any other space bar his own.

He was so desperate for Joshua, and, God, hadn't we waited enough years?

Seungcheol let Joshua go so he could breathe and so he could come through up to Seungcheol's bedroom, but, when he let go, Joshua stumbled and grabbed onto him. Seungcheol was mesermised. Joshua's cheeks were flushed warm with blood, lips were swollen and shiny with spit, his eyes were bright and feverish, and, his hair was all messed up from where Seungcheol had had his hand in it and from taking off the motorcycle helmet earlier.

He was incredible. There was nothing Seungcheol wouldn't do for him. To be able to have him, hold him...who needed a Christian God who could just send you to Hell when you could have Pagan Gods who gave you as much as themselves when you were faithful to them, the truebloods?

Seungcheol knocked Joshua's helmet out of his hands and skillfully picked him up with Joshua's tank over his wrist. Joshua gasped a laugh of surprise, and, he insisted for Seungcheol to put him down. "Ah don wah ooh to puh ooh bah ow ore weh geh up-hare!" He exclaimed, laughing more. I don't want you to put your back out before we get upstairs! Seungcheol twisted his fingers inside the waistband of Joshua's trousers and pulled him in to kiss him again. It made Seungcheol high, how obliging Joshua was, how easy he was to touch, to mould, to utterly re-create over and over and over again...

"Cooh ooh gih meh ah mihuh?" Joshua asked when they were in Seungcheol's bedroom and Seungcheol was beyond keen to just tear his clothes off. Could you give me a minute? Seungcheol moved that little bit away from him, but, didn't go so far that Joshua's hands on his chest left. Joshua hadn't tried to push him away, they had just got there as Seungcheol completely dominated him and held him close.

"What?"

Joshua's eyes slid down. "Ih uh, ooh noh, eh ooh's ah hoes ah s'uff." It's just, you know, with the tubes and my clothes and stuff..."

Seungcheol clicked to what Joshua was on about. "Oh, I see! Sorry, love, sorry." Joshua smiled softly as Seungcheol's thumb stroked over his cheekbone, and, Seungcheol slipped out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him, so Joshua could get changed, get out of his clothes. 

A few minutes later, Joshua called Seungcheol back in. "Ih aw-rye nouw." Joshua said. It's alright, now.

Seungcheol came back in to see Joshua stark naked and sitting right at the top of his bed on the right side with one of his legs crossed while the other hang over the edge of the bed. Joshua's hands sat loosely entwined on top of his ankle on the crossed leg, and, the lamplight in the room that Seungcheol had turned on beforehand caught into Joshua's oxygen tank tubes and made them glow white and silvery, utterly ethereal. Seungcheol was as deep in love as he had ever been. And it was all in this one person. All of him utterly consumed by one person. Seungcheol sat down on the edge of bed by Joshua's legs and gazed at him. 

"So how are we going to do this?" Seungcheol asked Joshua. Joshua gazed up at him, eyes human and soft-focused and bottomless, so full of rich depth and lamplight from Seungcheol bedroom that caught at him.

Joshua reached out, and, the warm pads of his fingertips touched Seungcheol's cheekbones and lips. Seungcheol looked at him through half-lids as he made Seungcheol move and Joshua himself moved a bit too so he could kiss Seungcheol. Joshua's kisses were light and airy, and, Seungcheol let himself meditate in this for a while. Joshua broke off from kissing him and with one hand pulled at the hem of Seungcheol's shirt while his other curved around Seungcheol's neck and his jawline and told him to come closer, it was alright, he wasn't china, he wasn't going to break. They ended up shifting positions so Seungcheol sat where Joshua had been with his back against the headboard and the pillows and Joshua straddling his lap, Seungcheol's knees raised up with his feet on the bed as a support for Joshua's back. Seungcheol noticed Joshua's length, hard and flushed and perfect sitting virtually on his own stomach, still clothed, and, Seungcheol thought that if this wasn't a testament to self-control, he didn't know what was.

"Ca we go hoe?" Joshua asked. Can we go slow? "Ah uh don noe ih meh oh-he ca kee uh." I just don't know if my body can keep up.

"Yeah, of course we can." Seungcheol said. "I love you."

Joshua gazed down at him. "Wye ih ooh ne-er sae eneh-hin weh we weh ah hool?" Why did you never say anything when we were at school?

"You're Christian." Seungcheol answered. "And, the last thing I'm sure you're parents wanted was my existence in your life; I might have made you happy, but, you could have died at any second, and, either way, you were still always sick. Even without me being there, they would have thought it would not be good for me."

Joshua's hands slid up Seungcheol's sides beneath his shirt as he kissed him again. "Ooh mae meh appy nouw." He said. You make me happy now "Ah, onehlee, if oo hah say all hi'h to meh beh 'hen...Ah gih ooh eweehin. Uh lie nouw. Ah neeher s...o'oh for uh ah loh tie...ah, ere ooh arh." And, honestly, if you had said all this to me back then...I'd give you everything. Just like now. I've needed someone for such a long time...and, here you are.

Joshua shifted off of Seungcheol so he could change out of his clothes. Joshua laid back against the bed and his eyes watched Seungcheol's body slowly become revealed. He grinned when Seungcheol stirred him up a bit, dancing the hem of his shirt around his muscled stomach before pulling it over his head, and, purposely slow with taking off his jeans. Joshua's mouth came open a slight bit as he saw Seungcheol's full naked form, and, he felt more blood rush down south. 

"Ah ih ewehihn fore-an." I did everything beforehand.

"What d'you mean, baby?" Seungcheol's eyes look down to inbetween Joshua's legs and Joshua smoothly inserted three of his fingers inside of himself. Seungcheol's Alpha kicked in more than he ever could describe at that beautifully erotic sight. Seungcheol pressed down Joshua's body and swallowed his gasps and his moans as he kissed him to within an inch of his life.

"Oh, baby..." The vibrations of Seungcheol's tone electrocuted Joshua's system as Seungcheol's lips moved across his neck. "You should have let me do that..." Seungcheol took in Joshua's scent that seemed to pool in the pits of his collarbones. A stir of regret when through Seungcheol, but, also, a excitement. Joshua preparing himself for him, making the effort of all of it for him. Seungcheol felt a shiver run through Joshua's body, and, it made him burn inside even more desperately.

"Ihn woh ih ooh eh emahhaihn." Joshua murmured whisperedly. Didn't want it to be embarrassing

"It never would be, Josh." Seungcheol whispered. "Nothing would be strange on you...you're so good..."

Seungcheol's hands slid under Joshua's back and neck against the bed and pressed their foreheads and noses together as he slid inside Joshua. Joshua remained absolutely silent, his breath stuttering slightly. Seungcheol kissed the tip of Joshua's jawline by his neck and bit down there as Joshua's hips pushed back down against his length, wanting Seungcheol to go harder, faster. Seungcheol wished Joshua would let himself make a sound; Seungcheol didn't quite know if he was doing right. And, the truth was, if he did something that made Joshua uncomfortable, Joshua would still be silent. Seungcheol knew that Joshua was embarrassed and shrunken by the distorted, consant-less sounds he could now only make, but, he just wished Joshua understood that to him it didn't matter. It was Joshua's life, and,was a huge part of his life. Of course Seungcheol didn't think it was weird, it was horrific.

Joshua's head shifted back against the bed, his skin burning hot, and his eyes closed without pressure.

It disconcerted Seungcheol.

He felt like he was doing something wrong, something he shouldn't be doing at all. He was the one using Joshua, holding him, fucking into him...

It felt disgusting.

Seungcheol pulled out of Joshua and laid down on the bed beside him. Joshua's eyes flew open, and, his head twisted to the side.

"Aye ih ooh oh?" Joshua said. Why did you stop

"I feel like I shouldn't be doing this." Seungcheol admitted quietly, sadly. "Feel like I'm just using you."

Seungcheol saw the hurt seep into Joshua's eyes and bones before his eyes.

"Aye ih ooh ah ooh weh ih or meh beh ooh-in uh'ah ooh-ih lie ah?" Joshua put to Seungcheol. Why did you have to wreck it for me by doing something stupid like that?

"I don't know what you said, love." Seungcheol said as the moments trickled by.

Joshua's eyes flashed bitterly. "Ah'ahd beh uhihn eye." He responded. That'd be fucking right.

"Is this your first time?" Seungcheol asked.

"Ooh don eh-erve ooh noh ah-her wha ooh uh dih." Joshua told him angrily. You don't deserve to know that after what you just did.

"I thought I was hurting you." Seungcheol said. "Don't be upset with me, I didn't mean it like that."

"Wha?" Joshua looked at him. What?

"You were all silent, still. I didn't know if it was alright. And because I didn't know if you were ok, I stopped, because, if something wasn't right, you know you weren't going to make a sound because you hate doing it even in nessecary circumstances and I didn't want to make you feel bad."

Joshua went quiet. "Ah sore'ah." He eventually whispered. I'm sorry.

Either way you looked at it, the night was truly fucked, and, neither of them were going to be able to forget it.

On the other side of the city, Jihoon sat with Soonyoung beside him in his bed until he went off to sleep. Jihoon wandered out into the kitchen to find Seokmin still awake, and drinking. Seokmin got him out a beer from the fridge.

"Thanks." Jihoon said quietly. The next morning, they had an appointment with the solicitor Seungcheol had arranged for them, a M. Wan, at half-nine in the morning.

There was almost no point in going to sleep. It was half-four now, and, either way, they wouldn't sleep.

"Want to put on the tv, see if there's anything on?" Seokmin offered.

"Tell me honestly." Jihoon said to him over the island bench. "Have you been having any of Soonyoung's issues?"

Seokmin shook his head. "No, I've been fine." He hesitated. "Should we say to M. Wan about Soonyoung -"

"Fuck, yes." Jihoon nodded. "We will get every penny from the house owners, insurance company, and local council fucking possible."


	16. CHAPTER FIFTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol and his Grandfather accompany Jihoon, Soonyoung and Seokmin to the office of the solicitors that will handle their case; Soonyoung has a seizure and is taken away in an ambulance while Seungcheol's Grandfather stirs up trouble in Germany. The Drummer of the band Joshua works with wrestles him down to what's made him so unhappy. Soonyoung suggests to Seungcheol that he and Joshua should break up and gets his head bitten off in the process and Seungcheol on the verge if explosion. Minghao asks Joshua if he is in love with Seungcheol to get a unexpected answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you are starting to notice, Old M. Choi is quite the irreverent old cunt *laughing* please tell me what you think of him

"I see you three are having a very difficult time." M. Wan said to them honestly. Seungcheol and his Grandfather had come with Jihoon, Soonyoung and Seokmin to their meeting at M. Wan's private offices in the inner-city while Seungcheol's Father kept an eye on the yard and factories with Ivan Morova lending a helping Slavic hand.

Soonyoung had half-fainted in the reception room after a horrendously heavy blood nose, then, had had a seizure. A ambulance had been called, and, part of Soonyoung's condition had been caused by lack of sleep, stress levels, and, lack of red blood cells.

M. Wan had organized the earliest possible hearing date, and, had submitted through the claims and other paperwork as apart of their claim. M. Wan was tall and middle-aged with gently greying black hair and sharp, fox-like eyes behind thick lensed glasses.

Seungcheol and Jihoon had gone with Soonyoung in the ambulance, and, Seungcheol's Grandfather stayed with Seokmin at M. Wan's while the wrapped up addresses, letter forwarding, and, a verabl clarification on just how serious it was on the home-front.

Seokmin was badly shaken up by Soonyoung getting fits, and, Seungcheol's Grandfather had managed to calm him down and was now advising Seokmin to "drink as much as he can" from the flask he had in the inside of his coat. M. Wan had brought out his crystal-stoppered bottle of whiskey, and, even the poor secretary who had rushed to call the ambulance for Soonyoung were necking the grog for international competiton.

M. Wan and Seungcheol's Grandfather were much like old business friends it seemed.

"You ever get around to knee-capping that American cunt stealing all the vintage aircraft out of Thailand and Papua New Guinea?" M. Wan asked Seungcheol's Grandfather, not seeming to mind that Seokmin or his secretary was there.

"No need." The nonogenarian beamed. "Welsh lot in Australia got him."

Both of the ageing men laughed and Seokmin just looked at the secretaries chest as she necked another shot of whiskey before answering a incoming telephone call. 

"Sir, it's -"

"Whoever it is can go away, my love." M. Wan dismissed kindly enough.

"No, I meant M. Choi - you, M. Choi." The secretary said nervously. "It's a M. Zolnae."

M. Wan dropped his glass - thankfully, perhaps, empty - to the ground, and, it shattered into a million pieces. He looked to the old man.

"So, it wasn't just support for the young ones then you came about?" He asked stiffly.

Seungcheol's Grandfather smiled cheerfully."All's well on the Eastern Front, my dear." He said, and, he gestured to the secretary to give him the phone. "Once the bomb is dropped, that is."

On the other side of the city, Joshua was alone at work and not very happy. The drummer of the band he worked with had it down on a pin.

"Love life?" The drummer had quipped.

Joshua had gone to snarl at him, but, he hadn't been able too. Any form of mention of Seungcheol had him on edge. He hated it, hated everything, hated everyone. It was never meant to be like that. His eyes grew hot bitterly. Fucking, fucking, fucking, stupid people.

Joshua had gone into the recording studios to grab some notebooks he had stuff written down in and the drummer had followed him in, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards him.

"We all know someone's upset you, come on, say." He said, his voice deep and his hands strong. He screamed reliability, and, curiously, earthliness. It made Joshua want to give in, but, he couldn't. There was no way he could do it anyway.

He sounded like a freak as he spoke.

"Eh goh." Joshua said. Let go.

"What?" Despite Joshua's words, the Drummer's other hand came onto Joshua's body, curving around his shoulder. "Come on, use your words, talk. What's going on?"

"Ah don wah ooh allh ahowh ah uhhin cun, oh, uh uhhin lee ih, or uh sae. Ah don in uh oohr irl-hend an sae uh ow uh o ah uhhin eye-ho he weh ah ow ih beh-her he ow o oar eye, o, uh uhhin lee ih." Joshua gritted out darkly. I don't want to talk about that fucking cunt, so, just fucking leave, for fucks sake. I don't bring up your girlfriend and say just how much of a fucking psycho she was and how it's better she's out of your life, so, just fucking leave it."

The Drummer clearly had no idea what he said, but, he could tell Joshua was in a bad way.

"We're not going out until you say what's happening." The Drummer put down concretely. "Mate, it's not hard."

Joshua's eyes flashed, he shoved against the Drummer, but, the Drummer didn't let him go. As Joshua tried to punch him, the Drummer wrapped his arms tightly around Joshua's body and held him against his body. They sank down to the ground as Joshua continued to fight, and, eventually, tear up. The Drummer wasn't having Joshua hurt him, or himself, by this. Joshua's face ended up buried into the crook of the Drummer's neck and shoulder, his eyes wetting the crew-neck of the Drummer's shirt while the Drummer hummed occasionally, but, didn't say anything more.

In the city hospital, Jihoon had nearly exploded at the ward matron of the section of the hospital where Soonyoung currently was, and, Seungcheol couldn't stop worrying about Soonyoung.

So much so he had temporarily stopped thinking about Joshua.

"It's not gone well, has it, my lad?" His Grandfather had said to him as they had driven behind Jihoon's car on the way to M. Wan's offices. Seungcheol had replied. When he looked back on it, he probably should have, but, either way, his Grandfather knew.

Much of a irreverent cunt he could be, he was articulate and searching, and, of everything, he was his Grandfather.

Grandad's had a funny kind of magic.

A man that became as old as time.

It all brought them something.

Seungcheol wished he didn't feel so sad. Even though he hadn't intended for it to be that way, it had turned out like that. 

"I feel like shit but also like a cloud." Soonyoung said to Seungcheol. Seungcheol started slightly; he thought Soonyoung had been asleep. Gunfire, artilliary explosions, knives, tanks, violence, abuse, swearing and anything dark and horrific didn't frighten or weaken Seungcheol one bit.

But ill people did.

"Like a...shit cloud?" Soonyoung's brows furrowed slightly.

"Cunt." Seungcheol muttered under his breath. Look at Soonyoung's face with his oxygen mask on, he was suddenly reminded of Joshua, and, it really, really hurt. 

"What?" Soonyoung looked at him.

"Sorry, mate, nothing, got thinking about something." Seungcheol dismissed. "Are you feeling a bit tired?" He asked instead.

"Yeah?" Seungcheol quipped.

"The paramedics gave you a bit of a sedative to calm down your system." Seungcheol explained. "Are you feeling like you'll be getting sick?"

"No, I'm alright with that." Soonyoung answered. "Who are you calling a cunt?"

"Joshua Hong." Seungcheol replied grimly. Soonyoung looked sad all of a sudden.

"Maybe you two should break up?" Soonyoung suggested softly.

Seungcheol glared at him. "Oh, trust me, mate, you can love someone - really love something - and think they're a fucking useless, irreverent, pain-in-my-fucking-arse, bible-bashing cunt of a human being at the same time." He answered angrily. "And if he ever behaves like that again, I will fuck him up."

Soonyoung went quiet. Seungcheol was something to be very frightened of when he exploded.

And Joshua Hong most certainly didn't fully understand what he set off when he became rather Christian around Ivan Morova's granddaughters, and, then, had a go at Seungcheol the previous evening over their sex.

On the other side of the city, Joshua Hong came to knock off work, and, then, knew he'd kill himself inside for carrying on like such an idiot in front of the Drummer of the band he worked with. He knew Minghao was home that day, just doing embroidery and beading work in the sitting room and chatting with his family over Skype; it wouldn't be a problem to Minghao, but, Joshua didn't want to go home and have Minghao worrying until his body hurt over him. Wheeling his oxi-tank behind him and ignoring the way people stared at him sadly, he walked through the Seoul Botanical Gardens where his Grandmother and Mother used to bring him for picnics from when he was a baby through to where he was about eleven and he decided he had to grow up and boys didn't do rubbish like that.

Joshua was intensely ashamed of himself.

Maybe the cancer was a bit of fucking karma, eh?

Joshua found a park bench and sat down on it. Joshua looked over at the multi-storey tall glass greenhouses and the towering trees and the flourishing blooms and forced himself to sit out there even though he was cold and uncomfortably to appreciate the beauty of the world, of nature, and, to stop trying to seriously fuck up his life. It felt like a lesson; he had to sit out there in the cold and stay there for as long as it bloody took. Joshua wasn't really even sure if anything changed; if he really thought about anything to work it out, or, perhaps, minutely, something changed and healed within him. The sun had gone to a certain angle in the late afternoon sky when he had sat down, and, by the time that Joshua came back to some sort of concious, it had gone down.

When Joshua finally came home, it was late. It was getting late. Minghao didn't look to impressed but he didn't say anything. Joshua wondered just how much stress subconciously was put and melded onto and into Junhui and Minghao's beings, but living with and caring for a terminally ill person who just did hopeless, bad, misconcieved, ignorant, selfish, retarded, shameful, regrettable, idiotic things all of the blood time. It must have taken ten years off of their young lives at least. It had made them decades older than they should be, should have to be.

"How did it go staying at Cheol's?" Minghao asked. Joshua had said he hadn't wanted anything to eat, and, he didn't want to see Minghao eating chicken and rice from the big bowl in his lap, so, instead, with clean hands, he held the skirts of one of Minghao's commission dresses in his hands and observed the delicate and articulate intricasy of the beading and the embroidery work across the voile fabric, soft and textured and transparent white in his hands. 

Joshua shrugged. No. No way. No bloody way was he talking about that bloody man.

"Uh oh." Joshua said. Fuck off.

"What's the matter, is it ripped?" Minghao asked, not having understood what Joshua said and took in his dark expression for him having found a flaw in the embroidered and beaded dress skirts. He put down the bowl of chicken and rice on the floor and took the skirt in his hands and observed. Joshua didn't even bother trying to make amends about what he had meant. It was just a pain in the arse, anyway.

"Josh, can I ask you something?" Minghao asked. He had gone away into his room to put the dress skirts away after nearly having a heart-attack that he had ruined it somehow. He resumed having his dinner, probably having got considerably cooler now, and, Joshua crossed his legs up onto the couch and observed the floor and his knees and the legs of the coffee table, not wanting too look at Minghao.

Joshua hummed. He winced. God, it was the most disgusting - fucking disgusting - sound on Earth.

Utterly, utterly, utterly revolting.

Joshua wanted to make a promise to never make that sound again, but, his friends and family and work would just force it up and out of him again.

"Are you in love with Seungcheol?" Minghao curiously and conversationally remarked, spearing the last piece of chicken and rice on his fork and swallowing it down.

This time, Joshua did look at Minghao.

"Wha uh fuh?" Joshua said. What the fuck?


	17. CHAPTER SIXTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A direct continuation of the previous chapter. Minghao asks Joshua if he's in love with Seungcheol and gets an unexpected answer, and, Seungcheol takes his share of family business with Gregor Zolnae into his own hands. We look through Seungcheol's loneliness and the matters of his families past while Joshua's anxiety and trepidation around Seungcheol's existence begins to grow as Seungcheol leaves to go to Paris, one of his favourite places in the world, before he snaps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a very deep, honest, raw situation I'm creating between Joshua and Seungcheol at this time. It is sad, but, it all comes around and gets resolved

"Are you in love with Seungcheol?" Minghao curiously and conversationally remarked, spearing the last piece of chicken and rice on his fork and swallowing it down.

This time, Joshua did look at Minghao.

"Wha uh fuh?" Joshua said. What the fuck?

On the other side of the city, Seungcheol was lonely, bitter, miserable, regretful, ashamed, and, completely, completely, completely unhappy going back to his home and to his bed that didn't have Joshua in it. Seungcheol wanted to shoot something, stab something, kill something, making something bleed to death.

But, he couldn't do that.

He wanted to shoot Joshua Hong, stab Joshua Hong, kill Joshua Hong, make Joshua Hong bleed to death.

But, he couldn't do that.

He was in love with him and he missed him.

Seungcheol put one of the old Serbian Pagan records to play on the gramophone in his sitting room, and, he poured himself a big drink of Scottish whiskey. Half-drinking it and listening to the Serbian Pagan music with the television playing the late edition of the evening news on muted volume, Seungcheol took in the Stubbs painting that over-hung the mantle of his fireplace, one hand in the pocket of his jeans. It showed a dark-haired Englishman in traditional riding-hunt costume of a dark coat with red and gold details and white trousers and black boots on top of a dark brown and handsome steed with a black top-hat and traditionally tapered Anglo-Saxon features with the backdrop of a Estate wood of some sorts. The painting was worth a fortune.

Nearly £500,000.

"What would you do, eh?" He asked the man in the painting. Seungcheol took a sip of his whiskey. It burned him up pleasantly.

Just like Joshua Hong.

Who he wanted to shoot, stab, kill, bleed-out, love, fuck, make his own.

"We've got some work to do." Seungcheol whispered up to the painting. "Grandad's got himself involved with Gregor Zolenae again."

He swallowed the rest of the whiskey before taking the painting off the hook on the exposed brick wall.

He gazed at the loosened bricks usually hidden by the painting. Behind him, unbeknowst in his dreamscape state of mind, his Grandfather came into his sitting room, purposely searching him out. For a few moments, the old man watched his silent, sightless Grandchild.

"Don't pacify him if he's getting on your nerves." The old man said to Seungcheol about this Joshua Hong. "You don't have to love him, if all of this is just going to hurt."

Seungcheol's head turned to look at his Grandfather standing in the doorway of his sitting room.

"Can you just leave me alone, Grandad?" He asked.

The old man left. Seungcheol felt sick and ashamed and raw. He locked up the front door of his home and made sure that his Grandfather and his old Aston Martin was gone. Seungcheol had had enough of all of that right now.

He went back up to the sitting room to get on with his task, but, then, he felt even worse.

He wish it would stop. Or, rather, he wished it would just be different, so much different.

How could it go so bad? He had the dream guy who was so beautiful, and, yes, his cancer and other health issues were a serious detriment...

But why did it have to be such a horrific problem?

Because nothing is really nice if you're real, a voice echoed sadly in the back of Seungcheol's head. 

Seungcheol got his laptop from his study and took it into the sitting room. He had enough. He couldn't do anymore of it.

He booked himself on the first flight from South Korea to Paris, leaving at half-seven the next morning.

He might text Joshua, call him.

Eventually.

But, it's obvious something was very wrong. Very wrong indeed.

Between the two of them.

With the both of them.

Seungcheol wondered if it had really just began when they started their relationship, or, did his being bring it out in Joshua, and did Joshua's being bring it out in him?

Seungcheol wondered if Joshua - been Christian - was familiar with the hungry ghosts.

People driven by intense emotional need in a animalistic way.

The Choi's were the living embodiment of the hungry ghosts in so many ways.

It's why his Mother wasn't around anymore, his Grandmother was dumb, his Great-Grandmother was a hard-faced and thorny bitch who had only sweetened up when Seungcheol's Father had been born, the adorable baby the light of her life. 

Even though he wasn't yet gone, Seungcheol felt himself mourning Joshua, mourning what he so desperately felt but what they didn't seem to have. They were just too different, but, why should that matter?

Obviously, it did.

Inside, Seungcheol simmered bitterly, furiously.

It always happened. Fucking always.

It was his greatest fear.

Bumbling from one relationship to the next and being left even though he was one of the better men in the entire world, until, one day, he was still by himself, and, then, forevermore by himself, the lonliness having been building up in stages, bit by bit...

Seungcheol was lucky if he met something he clicked with once a year, and, even then, it was the most curious situations, and, it was always conversations.

A pretty thick-boned face girl about twenty-four on a train back in March with sunflowers patterned on her black gypsy-style dress and her wide-legged jeans and her dark red lipstick and twinkling, bright eyes.

A young Dutch-woman, a traveler, who he had met in a library, and, she had been so lovely with her long and thick dark hair and her handmade denim jacket with the fleece lining.

They never stayed. Never worked out.

There was never the chance.

Seungcheol went back across the sitting room and removed the bricks from over the fire-place mantle, and, looked inside.

The contents would make most people scream, but, they had been in the family since 1918.

The velvet box with dark leather ot-lining full of the un-cut diamonds and rubies that in their natural state looked like pebbles, worth more than could be said. But, there was something more, something even more horrifying.

Five skulls. Five symbols of what had been, had once been, what would continue to be.

The skull of a German Nazi soldier taken care off by Seungcheol's Great-great-grandfather, the skull of a sexual-abuser Japanese tea-merchant that his Great-Grandfather's brother had beaten to death with a length of chain, the skull of a English lord from the late 1800's who had tried to have their manufacturing overtaken by Western influence just after the first world war.

But, the fourth and fifth ones were the worst.

The skull of a Jew and, the skull of Seungcheol's Great-Grandfather's oldest sister.

That's how they knew Gregor Zolnae.

The skull of the Jew was his Father, and, as for the skull of the sister dead since 1937...there wasn't much to say about her except that she was one terrible, terrible woman.

Seungcheol couldn't wait for Paris.

He just couldn't wait.

The next morning as Seungcheol was flying over China, heading for Paris, Joshua checked his phone.

There was nothing on his phone from Seungcheol. Joshua got onto the internet and checked Seungcheol's hidden, and private social media.

Nothing new there.

Joshua wandered out silently to put the kettle on. Something sad and dark and heavy pooled in his skin and his bones.

There was already something happening that he couldn't figure out. He would go to Church, sit in the pews amongst the tall ceilings and the stained glass and smile and wave at the Priest who had first blessed him as a baby and knew once more that Joshua must be sick because he hadn't been in for the Sunday services in weeks.

But, there was no point.

Getting hooked up on a Pagan was a sin.

A bloody big one.

Joshua had never given Minghao an answer from when he asked if he loved Seungcheol.

What Minghao didn't understand that it was difficult.

Intensely difficult.

Joshua had no idea how to explain the context of it.

It was so difficult.

Many, many hours later, Seungcheol with midlly disheveled hair and deep dark-grey bags beneath his eyes wheeled his single large black suitcase along the cobblestoned streets of the Bievre districk in Paris, right on the river. It was dirty, old-world, full of dark eyes peering at you nearly perfectly hidden away as one moved through the streets, but, it wasn't the scene of drug-dealers, prostitutes, youth, artists, or, anything urban. All of the buildings were at least five-stories tall with cream brick from the 1850's and lead roofs growing moss and slime and lichen with dark, rainy weather, gold lamp-light, and, rats diving in and out of the gutters. It was the Paris of the 1920's; the Paris that truly showed French people as French people. Stripping away all the pretty idealologies of breton-striped garments and berets and wine and croissants and pastel-themed worlds.

Dark, dirty, dangeorus, traitourous, dishonourable, slanderous, whoring, disgusting, insane, bitter, old-world, horrific Paris and French people.

Nine times out of ten, the dark side of any culture showed it in it's most honesty form.

Seungcheol got to a dark red door that was perfectly and solidly painted by covered in pollution grime and knocked on it, using the unpolished brass handly, a lion with a thick ring in it's mouth.

The thick, sturdy, old figure of Gregor Zolnae soon greeted his eyes.

"Quelle belle matinée pour s'occuper des porcs français." Seungcheol said.

Zolnae smiled tightly. "Comme disent les anglais, sortez les français de paris et c'est un endroit magnifique." The Jewish-French-man answered.

As the english say, take the french out of paris and it's a beautiful place

Zolnae took him inside, and, a few seconds later, a very pretty and thin Chinese maid in a black wool pencil skirt that went down to her mid-calves, black stockings, a black turtleneck jumper, pearl earrings, thick black hair in a bun at the base of her neck, and sweet, delicate make-up with a round-square face, arched-eyebrows and full lips took his coat and suitcase for him. "You wouldn't object to taking your shoes off?" Zolnae inquired. "Just need to protect the carpets as much as I can, boy."

Seungcheol obliged the old man's requests. The maid took them as well and made her way down the hallway, on the first level of the five-storey home. One the first level - from stories his Grandfather and Father had told him - Seungcheol believe on the first floor was a library, a study, a music room, and, a sittim room. It seemed his memory was correct. Skillfully, the Chinese maid opened up the paneled walnut door to the library open with her foot for her boss and his guest. Zolnae chuckled softly and appreciatevly.

"She has the most beautiful ballerina feet." He gestured to the bottom-most part of her anatomy as she moved away. "She still does her dancing...one day I come down to the kitchen because I couldn't find something, and she was doing her barre' exercises, holding onto the railing over the aga stove..." He coughed before letting Seungcheol into the room, boasting sixteen-foot ceilings that were painted, pale olive-cream wallpapers walls with a pattern in light, mildly diminished gold across them. Dark cream Brocade curtains over multi-paned original 19th-Century windows revealed to the dark day outside, and, a silver-grey persian cat slept curled up in the centre of the window seat. The library was the size of three average apartments, and, there was a second window like the one facing out to the street down the back of the library, showing outwards over the village-like homes behind the grand old architecture built on the side of the hill of the higher part of North Paris before it went down to the river. Seungcheol sat in a dark green velvet armchair opposite Zolnae's. There was no electrical lights in the room, only urns, and kerosine lamps. Three on each of the long walls were turned on, and, so was one on the writing desk. It gave the library a dark, Victorian gothic feel, and, Seungcheol didn't mind it. It fitted the mood. His mood.

"We have much work to do." Zolnae told him. "But, first, we drink, we smoke, and, I watch you attract young woman like I used to be able to forty-odd years ago."


	18. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshua finally snaps over Seungcheol and smashes in a window and the face of one of his band members, Zolnae introduces to Seungcheol a Jean-Christian Mali who is a government science representative for the EU as they make a weapons trade deal with the Choi's in Korea instead of the Americans or the Arabs. Joshua gets very, very sick, and, Soonyoung and Seokmins court case takes a harsh turn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice new update for you

It was a month and two weeks before Joshua finally lost the plot. Jihoon asked him if he'd heard from Seungcheol, and, out of temper, Joshua hurled a microphone set through the glass of the recording studio and smashed the four by one meter pane into a hundred million pieces.

"Bah-arh!" Joshua yelled. Bastard. "Uh uh-hin leh-ihn mih!" He looked desperately around at a shocked Jihoon. Just fucking leaving me. "Leh-hin mih own!" He added. Letting me down. "Uh fuh-hin cuhn!" Joshua momentarily doubled over, and, Jihoon tried to come over to him, but, he just couldn't do it. The fucking cunt. "Wha uh fuh ah I suh-oh ooo do weh-ow ihm, ih uh-hin hend o er's?" Joshua shouted at Jihoon. What the fuck am I supposed to do without him, this fucking friend of yours. "Wye uh fuh cah ihns beh gooh? Wye ih eye ole lie ah uh-hin meh?! Ih doh'hn hah ooh beh lie ih buh ih ih. Ah fuh-hin, uh-hin, fuh-hin, fuh-hin cuh!" He shrieked. Why the fuck can't things be good. Why is my whole life a fucking mess. It doesn't have to be like this but it is. The fucking, fucking, fucking, fucking cunt.

"Joshua!" Jihoon hollered out as the glass flew everywhere from where Joshua hurled the headphones set; the beta members of the band started swearing and dropping their instruments and talking aloud of what was happening, the Omega keyboardist shrieked out of fright, and, the Alpha Drummer roared, parting his way through his band-mates and coming into the recording studio where Joshua was now leaning against the recording table, his hands covering his face and blood spilling down from his nose all over his face, neck, chest, hands, and wrists.

"LEAVE!" The Drummer roared at Jihoon, and, Jihoon left, not testing the huge man. He ran into the other studios where the other band members were trying to keep the omega keyboardist in a calm state and prayed that no one from the offices above came down to see what the fuck was going on.

"I knew this would fucking happen." The Drummer looked at Joshua gravely, his huge hands coming up to rest on Joshua's face before pulling at his wrists, away from his face. Joshua twisted away from the Drummer, not wanting the other man in his evening-style black jacket with the rolled up sleeves showing a dark neavy lining and his grey t-shirt and his jeans and his recently shaven head except for a bit on top which was now dreadlocked back. 

The Drummer roughly grabbed Joshua's jaw in one of his big hands and twisted Joshua's face to look up at him, nose running, blood everywhere, eyes swollen and red and harsh and biting.

"This has got to stop." The Drummer told him.

Joshua punched him in the face.

On the other side of the world in Paris, Seungcheol sat a red-velvet-cloth covered table in a 1920's era theatre hall with a French lesbian risque act been performed on stage and a burning cigar between his index and middle fingers. Seungcheol half watched the display up on the stage, the jazz band giving a soundtrack somewhere in the background, and, didn't really pay attention to it.

He had been with Zolnae at the beginning of the evening, but, now, he didn't know where the old man was. He had bustled off somewhere at some point with his hat and coat and walking stick and immaculate shoes and said that he would be back shortly.

But, then, speak of the Devil and he shall come.

"Seungcheol, meet Jean-Christian Mali." Zolnae came back to the table with a man who was tall and of a healthy build in a blue-grey three-piece suit with no tie and the top three buttons on his shirt un-done. He was in his late twenties and had a charming square face, tip-curling blonde hair, and blue eyes. He reminded Seungcheol a bit of the man that used to be on the television in the early 2000's...

Simon Baker.

The Mentalist.

Seungcheol looked at him for a few moments. Jean-Christian gazed back, not seeming to quite understand what Seungcheol was getting at. "Danish, French, Polish, you're an educated man, you're conservative, you're Beta." He began. Something dropped very obviously in Jean-Christian being, and, meanwhile, a dark, animalistic smile came onto Zolnae's face. All the Choi's were educated correctly by their Fathers in perception, understanding, observation and working-out of human behaviour and what they would do - the choices they would make, the choices they would not make. "You are disasterous at relationships seeing the tattoo of a girl's name now burned off on the inside of your wrist but, clearly, having the scar there still effects you as much as her name did of whoever she was." Seungcheol pointed to the left wrist of the Frenchman on the surface of the table. He went to mvoe it beneath, but, Jean-Christian was stopped by one of Zolnae's rheumatic, dark-olive skinned hands on his wrist. "You're involved in some sort of science, and, you family must know the family of this Jewish cunt here because otherwise a man of your means and standing would not know this cretin." Seungcheol completed his first-sight examination.

"Am I this bad?" Zolnae commented, noticing that Seungcheol had just referred to him as a cunt and a cretin.

"You're mother was a prostitute for the big Ayrean Nazi men and yet she married a Jew, bit of a tricky bitch, shall we say?" Seungcheol remarked.

Zolnae didn't really seem impressed. "Due to me the EU is considering buying from your family -"

"Instead of the Yank cunts in America or the camel-jockeys in Saudi Arabia?" Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. "If you degenerate vermin had a brain, you would buy Korean - Korean as Korean, not Korean with Chinese and Japanese influence."

"I was told you loved Paris." Jean-Christian said, the first matter from his being of the whole night yet. Seungcheol regarded him.

"I do." Seungcheol said. "But I don't fawn over it like all the mentally-ill hipsters, Yank tourists, and average losers do."

Something made Jean-Christian smile. "Your Grandfather wants me to come and work in Korea; if guns are going to eb sold to the EU, they should be a EU sort of person there." He explained.

"Just to be Zolnae's puppet who he himself and company causes hell for any politicians that try to remove the natural order of Western Europe and make it into the hipster ideaological utopia." Seungcheol pointed his cigar at Zolnae. 

"I think it's going out." Zolnae took out a lighter and re-lit Seungcheol cigar.

"Merci bien." Seungcheol said to him.

Back on the other side of the world, Minghao and Junhui were having a fit.

"Can we just be honest?" Minghao said to Joshua.

Joshua was very sick. He had started vomiting blood, had experienced contraction-like pains due to his blood pressure going up and making his internal organs effected by his already deterioated condition scream, and, had fainted so deeply he had been in an out of a un-concious state for the best part of eight or so hours. He was in his bed now, and, Junhui sat on the end of it, keeping an eye on Joshua while the other paramedic Junhui usually worked with - the girl who was attacked by the drug addict patient in the hotel a few months ago - had come around to help he and Minghao, take the burden off their shoulders. She was in the sitting room with a coffee and a chick-flick playing on the telly, giving Joshua, Junhui and Minghao some private time.

Joshua hummed groanedly and groggily.

"I don't really understand what's going on between you and Seungcheol, ok, Josh?" Minghao pushed some of Joshua's hair back from his face, feelign tender and protective and cautious, not wanting to upset Joshua even more. "And it seems like you guys don't know either, right? But I - I and Junnie - think that maybe you two should break up, because, it's obviously hurting you two both, and, trying to make it work isn't going well at all. Do you want either me and Jun to give Seungcheol a ring and have a chat to him about what's happening, eh?"

Joshua didn't answer Minghao.

He had gone unconcious once again.

On the other side of world, Zolnae had been accompanied back home by people he knew that Seungcheol didn't. It left Seungcheol and Jean-Christian to themselves. They left the dingy 1920's club, and, simply, they walked.

"And now you're stressed out." Seungcheol remarked after a few blocks.

"What?" Jean-Christian looked at him.

"Continuation of the earlier examination about you." Seungcheol added.

"Oh." Jean-Christian managed.

"It's not illegal what is going on. We pay tax like everyone else, we're more decent than anyone else on Earth. The reason why it seems bad when it's not is just because it's a bit sly and government-related and not interfered with by goody-two-shoes homosexual hipster cunts." Seungcheol went on. 

Jean-Christian chuckled.

"You can buy bread and crossaints and snails and frogs legs in Korea, you won't have to change all your diet around. Enough grog to go around for a Asian nation and one Frenchman." Seungcheol added on life in South Korea.

"What about women?" Jean-Christian asked. Seungcheol rolled his eyes. Typical French cunt.

"Massively attracted to the men from the land or berets, garlic, breeding with your cousins, and the Eiffel tower." Seungcheol confirmed.

"Are you sure you like Paris?" Jean-Christian inquired.

"Yeah, I do." Seungcheol nodded. He lit a new cigar. They paused their walk, Jean-Christian beside him, as he went about this task.

"It's just a mood thing, right?" Jean-Christian then diagnosed.

"Yeah." Seungcheol agreed.

Back in Korea, Junhui helped Joshua turn on his side with all his difficulties and the machines he was connected up to, and, he was awake enough to help Minghao with the decision of calling up Seungcheol. 

"You sure you want me to handle this?" Minghao checked with Joshua.

"Yeah, just do it, I trust you." Joshua said, looking wearily up at Minghao.

A night and a day passed, and, in Paris, Seungcheol had clicked rather well with Jean-Christian to Zolnae's delight - and Seungcheol's Grandfather's delight - while Joshua remained by himself in South Korea, and, still very, very sick.

Yet, there been another day where Joshua didn't hear anything from Seungcheol broke his heart. He was sick to death of this. Why couldn't Seungcheol just text him, call him. Just do something. It wasn't too difficult a request, was it?

In Paris, Seungcheol and Jean-Christian had got themselves lunch and, Jean-Christian talked about his last serious relationship.

"She said she loved me but didn't like me anymore." Jean-Christian said to Seungcheol. "I don't know what that means. What about you?"

Seungcheol shrugged. "Sorry, I can't help you with that." He sighed. "I've been in love with the same person for the last ten years, but, they had a serious difficulty with me been from the background I am; it's disappointing to them, a sin. I don't fucking say that about them."

Jean-Christian gazed at him. "This person is a cunt." He remarked strongly.

"Yeah, you don't say?" Seungcheol answered. "Still love the said person though even though it's a fucking disaster. Just can't be happy. There always has to be some other fucking issue." He sighed. "I don't really want to leave Paris. Fucking have to, though."

"You ever thought of settling down here?" Jean-Christian suggested.

Seungcheol shook his head. "No point. Just fucking well can't."

"You're really frustrated with this person, aren't you?" Jean-Christian said.

Seungcheol hummed. "Story of my fucking life." He nearly growled. "Do the best you fucking can and something always goes fucking wrong...sub-human cunts."

Jean-Christian didn't make another comment. 

He'd really pissed off Seungcheol now.

Seungcheol roughly pulled his phone out of the pocket of his coat and dialed a number on it, lighting up a cigarette simultaneously.

"Jihoon, yeah..." Seungcheol began, obviously getting chattered to on the other end of the line by the second person. "What's Wan doing about Soonyoung and Seokmin been sick?" A few seconds later, Seungcheol's eyes widened. "What?! WHEN?!" Seungcheol's last word was a roar, and, it was very raw. "You are fucking kidding me." He blinked again. 


	19. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol comes back to Paris with Jean-Christian for his families business, and, he's rushed off his feet with nerve-wrenching desire for Joshua while he organizes private carers for Soonyoung whose health is still severely debilitated. When Seungcheol comes to see Joshua, Minghao initially tells him that Joshua has died so Seungcheol stays out of their lives like he seemingly has done for the last month. Seungcheol beats Minghao and finds Joshua hiding in the bathroom. Joshua can't help but just Seungcheol as they make love, and, Minghao gets his world tipped upside down by Jean-Christian who cleans the blood off him, having come searching for Seungcheol and found Minghao instead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow...where I even begin as far as a note goes? *laughing* just read, I guess?

"This is why we're dead." 

Joshua chuckled softly.

"Yeah?" He hummed.

Jihoon nodded.

He and Joshua were half on pillows on the floor of the sitting room, and, on the other side of the coffee table Seokmin and Soonyoung were curled up asleep each at one end of the couch while Minghao sat up at the kitchen table and hand-sew the trim along the neckline of a bodice that was part of a evening dress, and, Junhui was out working a day-shift as a Paramedic instead of a evening one for once.

Seungcheol considered the night outside as they flew through the air. Jean-Christian was fast asleep beside him in the aeroplane, and, flying through the night, Seungcheol decided it was time to just stop everything.

Stop the religion, stop the culture, stop the past, stop the anxiety, stop the expectation.

Just get Joshua and claim him his.

They were made for each other. Seungcheol could see that, Joshua could see that.

But they kept fucking it up.

Enough was enough. It had to change. 

"Hey." Seungcheol nudged Jean-Christian's knee with his own. The frenchman's eyes opened immediately. "We'll be in Seoul in half an hour, and any minute the hostesses will come along chattering. Look awake otherwise they'll get stroppy."

Jean-Christian chuckled. "Ok."

"I'll take you to my place and then I've got to go out and do some business." Seungcheol told him. "I'll give you a spare set of keys for my place, but, touch my cars and I'll buried your head in your fragrant french arse, understand?"

Jean-Christian grinned. "Alright, Master." He winked, but, he was sincere. He understood.

Seungcheol contemplated what he had to do when he got home, the hostesses accented drawl going in one ear and out the other.

First he had to go around to Wan's, and, whether or not he was in bed with his secretary, tell him then that if the council and the owner's of the boys house wouldn't compensate them then they were suing the unions and the insurance, their workers having said the house was safe to live in. Then, he was going to arranage private care for Soonyoung so some weight could be taken off Seokmin and Jihoon's shoulders. Seungcheol didn't care if it was going to be Soonyoung and Seokmin's opinion that he was paying through his nose for Soonyoung's care; Soonyoung was bloody sick, and, Seungcheol wasn't going to have some mole abusing him or raiding Jihoon's house for valuables when Seungcheol with his means could employ someone with discretion and knowledge enough that with the money they earned each weak, they needed and ought to step up to the fucking task. He also had to punch someone on the board of Soonyoung and Seokmin's University who didn't seem to understand abestos poisoning was a suitable reason to not be coming in to school, but not nessecarily the reason Soonyoung's future should be turned on it's head by been expelled from the University.

Then, finally, Joshua.

Seungcheol was going to go and see Joshua.

Seungcheol's stomach knotted impossibly tightly. He figured Joshua must hate him, but, Seungcheol was not going to tell him everything that had been going on; not a hope in hell. Joshua was built for these sorts of matters, anyway.

It was the evening of the next day before Seungcheol had completed all his tasks, and, he knew he was going to get a ear-bashing from his Dad the next time he saw him. The family was going to have dinner together at Grandfather Choi's big old house, but, Seungcheol had skipped that to see Joshua.

It didn't matter.

Not when he could have Joshua.

Not when he could wake up to him every morning.

Seungcheol ran up the stairs like a man possessed to Joshua, Junhui and Minghao's apartment and knocked on the door. Minghao opened it, but, before Seungcheol could get an earful, he put it out flat:

"You know we're arms dealers?" He quipped. "I've been in France dealing with the European Union Government for the last month about a arms deal with Korea instead of Saudia Arabia or America. Yeah, I could have texted, but, don't even try to imagine yourself in my shoes because you couldn't. Where's Josh?"

Minghao gawped at him. "Well, if you've been doing stuff like that you are not coming in here." He went to shut the door in Seungcheol's face, but, Seungcheol shoved it easily back open. He was an Alpha on a mission, and, a mere mortal wasn't going to get in the way. 

"No, no, no, I have to see him, where is he?" Seungcheol insisted to Minghao. Minghao began to look frightened.

"No, Seungcheol, please don't do this -" Minghao went silent and pliable in Seungcheol's grasp as one of Seungcheol's hands went around Minghao's wrist, the dominant hand, the hand he would punch with, and then around his neck, pressing him up into the left-side wall of the hallway.

"Just tell me where he is, I need to talk to him, I need to see him."

"No, no, you can't..." Minghao shook his head. Seungcheol's grip imperceptibly tightened on Minghao's neck.

"Don't you tell me that." He whispered. 

"He's-he's dead." Minghao said.

Seungcheol looked at him. "What?" He gazed all over Minghao's face.

"Josh died." Minghao repeated.

"No, bullshit, I don't believe it." Seungcheol answered immediately.

"He's dead." Tears welled up in Minghao's eyes. "Cheol, he's gone." His last words were so soft and transparent and human that Seungcheol changed.

Everything went numb, fogged, cold, and distant inside of Seungcheol. "How'd he die?"

"What?" Minghao looked at him.

"How the fuck did he die?" Seungcheol snapped. Minghao flinched.

"He stopped breathing in his sleep. And he had internal bleeding from his kidneys. He just went. Me and Junhui couldn't do anything." Minghao said.

"Bullshit, how could he die like that when the two of you are here?" Seungcheol growled, anger suddenly flooding his being.

Minghao didn't say anything, just gasped weakly with Seungcheol's hand around his neck, his eyes dark and terrified.

"FUCKING ANSWER ME!" Seungcheol actually strangled Minghao, bashing his head and body repeatedly back into the wall. "ANSWER ME, YOU LYING CUNT!" He brought Minghao's body to the ground, one knee on Minghao's thin chest as well.

Blood began to pour from Minghao's nose. His lips formed the word "no", over and over again.

Before Minghao died, Seungcheol let go of him, but not before king-hitting him around the face. Seungcheol swore he felt the bones in Minghao's face shatter beneath his fist as he hit him. The crack, and snapping, it fed through to Seungcheol animalistically. He couldn't not take it. He couldn't not want it. He got up and walked up the hallway. He heard something so quiet, it was nearly imperceptible.

Seungcheol navigated his way to where he thought the sound was coming from. It was coming from the bathroom. Seungcheol pushed the door open into what was initally a dark room, but, with the slight light that came in through the venetian blinds above the bath-tub from the city outside, Seungcheol could make out Joshua's frail, diseased, naked body hunched over and exposed in the water, his oxygen tank sitting beside the bath, the tubes carrying oxygen to his illness-ridden lungs strangely translucent but illuminated in the light. Seungcheol nearly collapsed to the floor. Seungcheol shut the bathroom door behind him, the room as dark as it ever was. He had missed this so much. He had needed this so much, but, all the while in Paris, he had blocked it out. He had not let it hurt him this way, make it's way into his bones this way. The world felt as though it was on fire, and the only person that could save him was Joshua. It was strange what desire could make foolish people do. Seungcheol had never dreamed that he'd meet somebody like Joshua. And he never dreamed that lose somebody like Joshua.

Seungcheol knelt beside the bath-tub, his hands reaching out for Joshua's warm skin, near anorexic bones laying beneath over tightly stretched, flushed skin. One of Seungcheol's hands curved around the side of Joshua's hand, the heel of his palm by Joshua's temple and cheekbone, while the other hand curved around the side of Joshua's neck.

"Ah ooh ihl ihm?" Joshua asked, tears rolling down his cheeks. Have you killed him?

"He said you died, love." Seungcheol rested his forehead and nose against Joshua's, desperately breathing in Joshua's scent, the familiarity of his skin, of his being, and it all flooded back to him. How could it have been so bad? How could it have been so bad that Seungcheol couldn't look back on the first time he had been inside of Joshua with happiness and memoriam and desire and longing? How was it that he looked back and he was ashamed and afraid and regretful for no reason at all?

Seungcheol's breathless breath shuddered out against Joshua's lips, all the while, Joshua remaining still and ethereal, the same beautiful qualities as ancient Roman statues that stood broken and missing but always glorious in the museums around the world, open for anyone to see, but, the people they had truly belong to gone long ago.

"Please, just..." The hand curved around the side of Joshua's head stroked down his scalp to the back of his neck. "Please, just..." Seungcheol couldn't stand it anymore. He need Joshua so much. Wanted him so much. And Joshua needed him. Wanted him. It was all the same, the two of them, the two of them together.

His mouth pressed across Joshua's, and, as the familiar heat and feeling of Joshua flooded Seungcheol's being as it always was meant to have done, as it was always meant to do, Seungcheol moaned, feeling the release rip through his body, his soul, his mind, his universe.

Touch me, he begged of Joshua in his mind. Touch me, please, let me know that...

Seungcheol nearly laughed as Joshua's hands came out from the water and wrapped around his throat, both of Joshua's thumbs pressing over his echophigy. "You're going to strangle me, baby?" He whispered, his mouth peeling away from Joshua's. "You're going to hurt me, baby? Do you want to hurt me?"

Joshua's hands squeezed around Seungcheol's throat, and, Seungcheol stroked the backs of his middle and index fingers down over Joshua's cheekbone on the right side of his face as he did. After only seconds, ten seconds less, Joshua fell weak and shaking, his hands trembling around Seungcheol's neck. Seungcheol got Joshua back into his arms and his hands moved gently over Joshua's skin, wanting him so much, needing him so much. Joshua's arms wrapped around his neck, Joshua's hands threading into his hair.

Seungcheol felt Joshua tug brutally on the strands, ripping out his hair, hurting him. But Seungcheol didn't mind. He didn't have a care in the world as long as he got to kiss Joshua.

Seungcheol felt blood trickle down over his scalp and to the back of his neck and then the collar of his shirt, soaking in to the linen, staining. His teeth bit gently at Joshua's lower lip, opening him up so Seungcheol could slip his tongue inside.

"I love you." He murmured feverishly across Joshua's lips. "I love you, I love you, I love you..."

The fingertips on his right hand traced over the lines of Joshua's throat going down and then traced around the shape of the tracheotomy stent in his throat. Seungcheol felt Joshua's intake of breath against his lips, and, Seungcheol drowned. He just so simply drown.

"I never want to be with out...I can't do without you...I love you so much."

Seungcheol felt Joshua's wet cheekbones brush up against his own.

"Ow an ooh loh ah er-hon ah's aha-enhly mae eyre en ah ah-lee ae ooh oh uh hoo eyre oh pae ah ey ah-her ell ooh ah aye were eah ah-her ahn aye beh beh-hin ah beh-hin ah beh-hin Ohd for ooh tuh cuh ahk oh ah ca eeh ooh." Joshua sobbed, feeling his pulse-beat like a drum-beat against the tracheotomy stent in his throat and his heart breaking into pieces around his body, falling down, melting, vanishing, burning. How can you love a person that's accidentally made their friends and family hate you so much through their own pain that they'd rather tell you that I was dead rather than I've been begging and begging and begging God for you to come back so I can see you.

"It doesn't matter, just kiss me, kiss me..." Seungcheol didn't let go of Joshua, and, Joshua didn't let him let go of him.

Out in the sitting room, Minghao weakly got to his feet, only then to see a very, very tall blonde Anglo man come through the front door.

"Oh, God, are you ok?" He asked in Korean. "What happened with Seungcheol?"

In the background, a soft, ragged moan with Joshua and more incoherent mumblings from Seungcheol filled up the air. The anglo man's eyes glowed mischiveously and humorously, his cheekbones flushing pink.

"I did something really bad." Minghao came to admit. 

It seemed Seungcheol and Joshua were quite alright. He looked as the Anglo man pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his grey trousers and pressed it to his face gently.

"It'll be ok." He assured Minghao, smiling handsomely at him.

Maybe, Minghao thought. But a bit less drama would be fucking nice. I've no idea what's going on


	20. CHAPTER NINETEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After one of the most blissful mornings of his life, Joshuas life is put in danger by the accidental actions of the band's lead singer who picks him, swings him around, and breaks the oxygen tank Joshua relies on 24/7. Seungcheol's Father meets Joshua and Ivan Morova rants and raves about the French whilst stuck in a traffic jam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, you're heart will be broken a bit more again. I'm sorry, but, it feels right, when it comes to this

Joshua and Seungcheol lay naked and fast asleep, their bodies entwined with each other's, in Joshua's bed. In the end, Joshua had let Seungcheol both slip his fingers inside of him and work him slowly until he became high. This time, Seungcheol was much more senstivie to his reactions, and, seemed to read him better. Seungcheol sensed when Joshua was trembling for what to him was over-stimulation, and, because of it, Joshua never released from the sex, but, it was something that he had needed so badly, something Seungcheol had needed so badly.

Though far from complete, it had sated the both of them, and re-affirmed whatever it was precisely between the two of them.

But, in fact with more intense clarity, it made Joshua even deeper - deep than he possibly thought - for Seungcheol. 

Joshua's head rested in the crook of Seungcheol's shoulder and neck, breathing in the scent of him, the scent of his skin. Joshua didn't wake up, but, in his dreams, he mused that this was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed. Just this. He didn't care what anyone else thought; no one else could make him feel this high, this wild, this human, this alive.

Nothing felt better than this. 

Junhui had the shock of his life when he came home the next morning.

Partly because he discovered Minghao in bed with Jean-Christian.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!" Everyone was woken up by the aplha bashing two stainless steel frying pans together in the kitchen. "WHO THE FUCK IS THIS IN MY FUCKING HOUSE?!"

Seungcheol was equally as startled to find Jean-Christian in bed with Minghao, or, rather, getting out of bed with Minghao.

Junhui then proceeded to nearly bash the fuck out of Jean-Christian, thinking it was him who had beaten Minghao in some sort of very unusual sex.

By the time Seungcheol got him off of Jean-Christian, Minghao looked very ashamed and small and afraid. He eventually whispered out what he had said the previous evening, and, even though it was indeed Minghao's fault, Junhui still gave Seungcheol a wack over the head for strangling him.

Minghao wasn't let off for that either.

Jean-Christian sort of acted as body-guard/referree as Junhui lectured Minghao to within an inch of his life and bluntly told him that he deserved to get thumped by Seungcheol. 

They all went in to Joshua's bedroom to check on him.

Even with all the chaos out in the living space, Joshua had gone back to sleep.

Jean-Christian murmured something sweet and tanatlaizing and teasing in French to Seungcheol, noticing the expression on his face as he gazed at Joshua; a happy predator. Papa lion with his cubs crawling over him and biting his ears, a brown bear with a full belly in the middle of winter.

"You're so proud of him, aren't you?" Jean-Christian murmured to Seungcheol. "It's one thing to love someone, but to love someone with pride...not many people have that. No matter what they are."

Things didn't precisely become kumbiah, though.

Junhui was still absolutely livid at Minghao, Jean-Christian was very aware he was a stranger in a foreign home and kept politely to himself, but, he and Minghao were naturally in each other's company. Seungcheol gently woke up Joshua, and, helped him get his shirt on around the tubes of his oxygen tank. Seungcheol felt like he was on drugs; everything was perfect. Everything shone, glowed, everything was illuminated, everything was perfect, everything was beautiful.

And Joshua kept kissing him.

Seungcheol's knees kept nearly going out from beneath him at each one.

It was like Joshua couldn't bare to be apart from him, small, easy smiles and gentle touches of his fingertips across Seungcheol's chest and shoulders and hips, as though Seungcheol was the ill one, the diseased one, the one made from fine china. 

"Minghao?" Seungcheol walked out into the sitting room to find Minghao. Minghao cautiously put his mug of tea on the coffee table, and shifted to look at him. 

Minghao looked very afraid.

"Hao, no, come here." Seungcheol moved over to where Minghao was on the couch. "I'm sorry about what happened last night, mate, ok?" He hugged Minghao. "I'm sorry, you know that right? Hm, yeah?"

Minghao nodded, his face in the crook of Seungcheol's shoulder and neck. He could smell Joshua's scent on Seungcheol's skin, and, Seungcheol's forest scent made him slightly dizzy, transporting him to a different place. Minghao knew that Seungcheol wasn't lying. Seungcheol didn't hate him; Seungcheol was sorry for what he had done, what had happened.

Seungcheol ran his hand through Minghao's hair as he moved away, and, carrying Joshua's case for him while Joshua carried his oxygen tank, he took Joshua to work.

"They're crazy in love." Jean-Christian said, finishing the last of the mug of tea that Junhui hadn't minded him making before taking his leave. He glanced back at Minghao, who was cross-legged on the couch in the sitting room, and, he wondered if Minghao was still red from getting hugged by Seungcheol, or, because his head was still spinning by sleeping for the first time in his whole life with someone that he didn't have sex with. 

"Whose that other guy?" Junhui asked Minghao of Jean-Christian, before going to his room to sleep, having worked all night. Minghao said what he could.

"He's working on behalf on some section of the EU government as far as the sciency stuff goes with the Choi's. Like a representative for the manufacturing." Minghao explained. "When Seungcheol didn't come home last night, Jean-Christian knew he was around here and came to check up on him. Then, he just stayed over."

"With you." Junhui looked at him.

Minghao swallowed. "Yeah, with me." He said.

"Do you like him?" Junhui questioned.

Minghao ducked his head. "I don't know why he should like me considering how we met." He admitted.

"No, I ask you if you like him?" Junhui echoed.

"And that's my answer." Minghao stated.

Minghao and Junhui looked at each other.

"You know, I never thought I'd see the day when Josh settled down happy with someone else." Junhui glanced down to the ground. "I thought he'd be dead by now." He whispered. "It feels kind of weird, right?"

Minghao nodded. "They're a weird couple." He voiced his opinion hesitantly.

"Oh, God, yeah." Junhui agreed resolutely. "No normal relationship has that amount of shit going on, but, then, they're not normal, are they?"

Joshua and Seungcheol held hands as Seungcheol drove him to the Pledis company music studios.

"Ah loh ooh." Joshua said as he climbed out of Seungcheol's Bentley Continental in a temporary parking space outside the company's front doors. I love you.

Seungcheol smiled.

"I love you, too." He answered. 

Seungcheol waved goodbye to Joshua and drove off, but, as he went, he glanced back in the rear-vision mirror, seeing Joshua looking after his car as he went inside.

Seungcheol knew for a fact that if Soonyoung and Seokmin could see inside his chest they'd say something like it was a literal UWU or something. Probably had floating love-hearts and fireworks around it. 

And Megan Fox in a bra on a motorycle, God only knew.

Seungcheol had no idea about any of the stuff the twats and hipsters put up on the Internet. He didn't have any time for that stuff. He had made an idiot of himself last year by asking the guys about stuff.

"What does this mean?" Seungcheol had pointed to the eggplant emoji on his phone. "I see people use that a lot but I don't know why."

Soonyoung and Seokmin had nearly pissed themselves laughing. Even the small-statured Jihoon had looked jolly.

"It means cock." Jihoon had answered on behalf of Soonyoung and Seokmin who had both tipped off the couch in what had once been their house, now, as they all knew, descimated and posioning them. 

"Ok..." Seungcheol had searched for the other one he wanted to ask about. "And what do the peaches mean?"

"ARSE!" Soonyoung, Seokmin and Jihoon had shouted. Jihoon was laughing very hard now. 

"Alright-y...and what about the cherries? Are they testicles or something?" Seungcheol had asked.

"No, cherries are sweet, cute, good." Seokmin had managed as Jihoon sunk to his hands and knees on the ground, absolutely hysterically laughing.

"You know how I even found out to ask about this, right?" Seungcheol had said then to Seokmin. "My pagan crowd - where you lot text these things, they actually do it."

"What?" Seokmin had grinned unsuredly.

"One of the girls, Rosa, she left an eggplant on her boyfriend's front step." Seungcheol quipped as though that was perfectly normal.

"Oh, jesus!" Soonyoung had shrilly shrieked.

He had accidentally leaked.

That had then set Seokmin and Jihoon off even more.

"THROW 'EM IN THE BIN!" Jihoon had hollered after Soonyoung, concerning the clothing of his lower body.

"Oh my God, are you on drugs?" Had been Jihoon's first reaction, back in the present day, when Joshua came into the studios.

"What?" Joshua had looked at him.

The beta lead singer of the band they worked with came in just after him, and, his mouth fell open.

"Man, you are fucking glowing!" The singer had then picked up Joshua in a tight hug and had swung him around, but Jihoon's screech about Joshua's oxygen tank hadn't been heard quick enough. 

The plasticine tubes were ripped from the oxygen canister, and, the blood drained out of Joshua's face as the high-pitched whoosh of escaping liquid oxygen came from the canister. The beta singer dropped him onto the floor and Jihoon rushed up to the staff room three floors up, going to get the emergency ventilator for if Joshua ever got really, really crook at work. The singer tried to fix the tubes back to the canister's nozzle, but, it was no good.

He looked horrifiedly at Joshua. "Don't die, don't die, please don't die..." He begged whimperedly to Joshua, getting one of Joshua's hands and holding on tight.

Joshua couldn't breathe. He barely could breathe. He sat on the ground, his back against the wall, barely taking in any oxygen at all but concerntrating on that once so simple task. He remembered back to a time as a child when he never had to struggle for breath, never needed assitant oxygen. He never thought he'd grow up to be like this. Not five years old and running around in the back garden with his Dad in one of his Dad's shirts playing football. Not in the kitchen with his Mum, teaching him how to read and write, the radio on the bench by the sink playing English pop songs quietly, summer sunshine shining into the space through the venetian blinds that had been tweaked open. Been given colouring books and pencils to occupy him when he was small in Church because little children weren't expected to understand Catholic services, but, while colouring in a dinosaur or something, Joshua did listen as the old priest - probably a bit drunk if the truth was known - talked about the Universe, and it's birth, sounding so unlike a Catholic Priest that Joshua hadn't really believed that they were in Church.

They were somewhere else with people who looked like Churchy-going-people.

Joshua slowly went to sleep, even when the singer started screaming and Jihoon's audible, heavy, running breaths were heard along with the smart slap of his feet against the ground as he moved as fast as he could, the ventilator in his hands with the tiny packets of bottles of liquid ventilation steroid for Joshua's lungs.

As Jihoon rang an ambulance, Seungcheol was helping Jean-Christian at his family's yard and factories into one of their new tanks, upon the invitation of letting him have a drive.

Seungcheol's stomach felt knotted and tight for some reason after a while. He couldn't quite place it. In realism, it was probably a bit of anxiety of having a Frenchman behind the wheel of a tank. Seungcheol's Father and Grandfather had sworn blind to never let the commanders of the Korean Army forget that their negligence had cost the lives of three guard dogs which their soliders had run over upon doing burn-outs in the driving track for the tanks and other artillery-zone response vehicles. But, something else nagged at him.

It screamed Joshua. 

You're just missing him, Seungcheol's subconcious echoed. You're just missing him

Later that evening, Seungcheol found out what had happened.

A window was the only thing to have suffered more than Seungcheol.

Seungcheol had put his fist through it, then, the next two, either side of the originally smashed pane. His Grandfather watched on silently, his Father shouted and shouted and shouted, and, Jean-Christian felt that somehow it was all his fault, but, he couldn't explain why. Even though Seungcheol's fist and wrist were cut to the shreds, he pulled his sleeves over it, and got on his jacket even though it was too warm. He immediately began to sweat as he went to get into the Bentley, but, all the while everyone had been shouting in the offices, Ivan Morova with his pecurliarly considerate and perceptional brain had disconnected the fuel lines to the engine, so the Bentley wouldn't start. 

Ivan Morova looked up into the window of the second storey offices to where Grandfather Choi peered out at him. Ivan Morova winked barely perceptibly up at the other old man, and, Grandfather Choi caught it.

There was no way Seungcheol could drive in the state he was in. 

Seungcheol's Father didn't really know or understand what had happened, what was coming over his child, while, Grandfather Choi understood perfectly.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU, CUNTS?!" Seungcheol roared, slamming the door shut on the Bentley.

"I'll take you in my car." Ivan Morova told Seungcheol sensibly and measuredly. "Listen to me."

Seungcheol did.

The drive to the hospital seemed to take forever, and, Ivan's inner russian came out in a way that relieved Seungcheol slightly of his stress.

"MOTHERFUCKING SYPHILITIC DOG CUNTS, FUCKING MOVE!" Ivan Morova roared out of the driver's window of his 70's model Jaguar, waving a fist angrily in the air at a old lady in a Puegeot holding up traffic at a double roundabout on a busy intersection. "SHOULD HAVE HAD YOUR LISENCE TAKEN OF YOU, YOU RETARDED BITCH! I JUMP ON YOUR FUCKING CAR, YOU DON'T MOVE, YOU RUDE MOTHERFUCKER COW!"

"Monsiuer Morova!" Jean-Christian exclaimed from the back seat, dead in the centre, with Father Choi on his left and Grandfather Choi on his right. "You cannot speak like this -!"

"OH, SHUT UP YOU TRAITOROUS FRENCH CUNT!" Ivan Morova roared even more, flecks of spittle flying from his mouth. "THE ONLY HONOURABLE OF YOUR FILTHY FUCKING RACE WERE THOSE IN THE RESISTANCE AND YOU WERE FEW AND FAR BETWEEN! ALL YOUR WHORE WOMEN BECOMING FUCKING JERRYBAGS AND ALL YOU WEAK FAGGOT FRENCH CUNTS BARING YOUR ARSEHOLES WITH BUTTER AS LUBRICANT SO GERMAN NAZI COCK COULD SLIDE BETWEEN YOUR PIMPLED CHEEKS!"

By this point in time, Jean-Christian was shocked into silence and three generations of Choi men - Grandfather, Father and Son - were nearly pissing themselves laughing, absolutely hysterical, as the Russian man ranted and ranted and ranted.

"IN AND OUT! IN AND OUT!" Ivan Morova gestured a disappointely large member going in and out, as they sat stuck in traffic. "FILTHY FUCKING CUNTS!"

Seungcheol had tears rolling down his face, a mix of grief and worry and fear and love for Joshua, and, hilarity for Ivan Morova, a man who was just like one of the family.

"Ah, Jesus, you're a riot, Morovie..." Seungcheol used the nickname he had called Ivan Morova since he was a little child, and, suddenly, in no time at all, they were in the hospital.

Joshua was in a private room in the ICU wards attached to a ventilator, and, subdued into a temporary one-week coma for the time being. The Doctors filled them in. Ruptured blood vessels, collapsed lung, internal bleeding, affected hormone content leaking from his spleen and kidneys, excess lung fluid getting into his internal respitatory system making him essentially drown. On one side of the bed sat Jihoon, Junhui, and Minghao. Seungcheol was sure not so many people should be in this one room, but, he wondered, just a little bit, if they were recognised from media reports on the television and newspaper.

Seungcheol gazed down at Joshua, essentially put to sleep. He looked beautiful, even though his skin was a pallid, ashy grey, there were bags darker than window thunderstorm clouds beneath his eyes, and, he was still. Just completely still.

What Seungcheol noticed the most was how Joshua was scentless. Seungcheol couldn't smell his rain scent.

"Seungcheol?" 

His Father's voice pulled Seungcheol out of his thoughts. He looked sideways at him. There was something severe, something ungracious, something hard in his Father's being.

"What the hell is going on with you and this guy?" He said.

"Shut up, now, leave him be." Seungcheol's Grandfather growled, as harsh and as threatening as a butcher's dog. Seungcheol could have sworn, just for a nanosecond, that Joshua's eyelids fluttered. Seungcheol knew unconcious people's such as Joshua could still here sound. Poor love, Seungcheol thought. It's going to be world war three on radio production for you soon, dear

He touched Joshua's hand before slipping his hand tightly around Joshua's limp, cool-skinned hand. A heart-moniter beeped gently, un-intrusively, a little sign of Joshua's living, functioning presence in the room with all it's people and anger and anguish and non-understanding.

Jihoon, Minghao and Jean-Christian looked frightened as Seungcheol's Father bickered with Grandfather Choi and Ivan Morova and tried to envelope Seungcheol into the bickering, snapping at him and shoving at his shoulder. Seungcheol gazed down at Joshua, not at all bothered by his Father.

"I have loved you very, very much, for so very long." Seungcheol told Joshua. Everyone went silent. "These last ten years have been largely an agony for me, Joshua Hong. All because of you. All because of your pretty face...your pretty face. I still love you to this day, but, I do readily admit, there have been days where I've hated loving you, days where I have missed you near unbearibly, and days where I just..." Seungcheol sighed softly, running his thumb gently over Joshua's skin. "It's so nice to have you here now, even though I'm quite sure you think me very stupid, but, in equal porportions, so very not stupid. I love you, darlin'." Seungcheol got up from the chair, and, pressed a simple, gentle kiss over Joshua's mouth. "I've got to go, now, love. I've got a very unhappy Father to deal with, a schemeing Grandfather whose already got the wedding planned, and a very kindly old Russian whose agreed to help me in having my dear old Dad not kill you." Seungcheol kissed Joshua again, and, like there was no one else in the room, he took his leave.

Jihoon, Minghao, Junhui, Jean-Christian, Ivan Morova and Seungcheol's Grandfather applauded.

"You give that boy any trouble I'll whip the balls off of you." Grandfather Choi slapped Seungcheol's Father around the head as he sat there, silent and grim with angry eyes. "And, if you give that boy trouble -" He pointed a rheumatically swollen finger to Joshua. "I'll let the Christians come and pillage you."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too concerned." Junhui remarked drily, ever the in-control alpha male. "Christians grow as weak as piss and beyond each generation born. Mr and Mrs Hong would barely bark out about lawyers before taking over faint."

Just as Seungcheol left the hospital, he could have sworn blind he scented rain, just before it began to fall from the sky and onto his being, covering his head and shoulders and hands in it's entirely.

Seungcheol laughed.

It was raining.

Raining.

Rain was Joshua.

The rain was happy, present, showing it's sign.

Joshua was happy, present, showing his sign.

Seungcheol caught a cab and went back to his own house.

In his damp clothes, he laid down on his bed after opening all the windows of his house, letting the coolness and the scent and the echoe of the rain flood his home.

"I love you, Josh." Seungcheol said aloud gently, gazing up at the ceiling, petrichor flooding through his sense. His eyes slipped close.

"I love you."


	21. CHAPTER TWENTY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a month in hospital, Joshua is released and he's desperate for sex afterwards; when Seungcheol fails to get a erection, Joshua gets angry at him and they fight. Culture, religion ans whose in the wrong comes into play, and, their relationship falls to pieces yet again.  
> Seungcheol still loves Joshua, but, Joshua couldn't give a damn about him and refers to him not as Seungcheol, but as Stupid. When Junhui finds out, he beats Joshua to within an inch of his life, and, as Minghao comforts Joshua, they end up having sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It never works out. A happy ending. When you have one very fucked up person and someone loving a fucked up person, it just never, ever works out. The person in love will long for the fucked up one for the rest of their lives, and, as for the fucked up one, who knows? They are just fucked up

It was a month before Joshua came out of hospital. Everything had gone to plan. He was only in the coma for a week, and, the next three weeks were observation, therapies, and medicine trials. The renewed tracheotomy had been a immense grief, but, it was doing it's job well, even though Joshua still required assisted breathing.

Seungcheol was bloody glad when he did leave hospital.

He visited Joshua every day and all the nurses had grown rather soft on him.

And all the nurses had developed a massive crush on "Joshy".

A supreme, somewhat entirely evil, and proudly cheerful little voice filled up Seungcheol's head over this:

Haha, bitches, he's fucking mine!

Seungcheol had a brief vision of standing at the top of a wedding aisle - a much more English more for some reason, perhaps just aesthetic - with Joshua looking radiant in white with Seungcheol himself dressed in tails, a top hat and gloves, sticking up two fingers to the conregation full of people who had suffered and desired Joshua and yet it was Seungcheol who had got him.

Joshua was sitting up in bed in a over-sized short-sleeved shirt with the covers tucked up around his hips, Minghao looking strangely attractive - strangely as in Seungcheol never really thought much of the Chinese-born man - in fact, insanely attractive, in a black silk-like robe jacket sitting on the egde of Joshua's hospital bed and talking to him. Minghao sat on the left side so his back was to Seungcheol with his head turned to the side, speaking to Joshua.

Bitter jealously and loathing filled up Seungcheol due to a single thought that blurred into one such supposedly single thoughts for barely a few nanoseconds.

Had Minghao ever been with Junhui, or, more importantly, had Joshua ever been with Minghao or Junhui - or perhaps the both of them?

Not at once, surely?

"Oon-hol!" Joshua smiled brightly, still connected to a oxygen tank; his hands that had been over one another gently in his lap raised up and Seungcheol happily stepped into them. Joshua's face nuzzled into his neck for a few moments, and, Seungcheol nearly lost his head. Joshua's face tipped upwards, his lips coming into contact with Seungcheol's neck and then the tip of his jawline. The gesture screamed "I miss you" in a way nearly nothing else did. It was impossible for there to be a lie in any of those touches.

"Ah mih ooh oh muh." Joshua whispered. I've missed you so much. Seungcheol's slipped to half-lids, inhaling Joshua's unique rain scent.

Minghao looked away, giving them a faint sense of privacy as the fingertips on one of Joshua's hands touched against Seungcheol's chest, by his collarbones and just over them, the fingertips pressing gently into the dips of the bones.

"Cah weh oh bah ooh oar hace?" Joshua asked. Can we go back to your place?

Minghao didn't make a further comment. He got up and murmured a few things to Joshua, collected some bags of Joshua's clothes and hospital records. 

Seungcheol took notice of how Minghao kissed Joshua on the cheek as he left.

Yes, fuck off, the supreme, evil, and proudly cheerfull little voice in Seungcheol's head cattily remarked as Minghao went by. 

Joshua didn't appear to notice his internal conflict. 

Seungcheol had rang up his Grandfather earlier, asking if he could have a day off. A month on and he still really wasn't talking to his Father. Well, he was, just not about anything very much. His Father had gruffly and begrudgling said it didn't matter a fuck what he did, but, Seungcheol could see that it crashed a lot of things before his eyes. It included the future of the business with no heirs of any sort, and, more personally, no grandchildren. Seungcheol could have children with Joshua, but, there were a few major problems. Joshua was extremely sick; even without his cancer, he had a arm-long list of health problems written in microscopic text. He was also Christian-blessed, came from a Christian family, didn't agree with any traditional or pagan, and, well, he wasn't one of the tribe in any respect. Their day to day existence was still a lost understanding to him. Seungcheol could understand why his Father had thrown the rag in where Joshua was concerned.

The irony was, as far as that day went, Seungcheol had taken the day off, thinking that Joshua would want to rest in his own bed back at he, Junhui and Minghao's, and perhaps Joshua would like him just to be around. In fact, Seungcheol was rather decided on just being around, anyway.

But, it seemed hospital had given him enough rest and he quite wanted to do something that didn't involve resting.

Seungcheol's body practically sung with excitement. The memories of Joshua's body last time and how Joshua let him touch him and how Joshua felt nearly drowned Seungcheol all over again. So many nights he thought about it. Every single night before he went to sleep. He wasn't masturbating off to it, it just came to him as he went to sleep. What Joshua's walls felt like, the heat of his skin pressed up against Seungcheol's, how his leg slipped over Seungcheol's in his bed so the inside of Joshua's thigh pressed against Seungcheol's hip. The feeling of Joshua's breath against his neck and the slide of the silicone oxygen tubes over Seungcheol's skin as they shifted. Joshua's hands around his neck, and what his skin felt like when it was wet, fresh from the bath.

Seungcheol had had a dream about taking Joshua swimming in the lake in the village in Gyreonsang where his Grandmother came from; holding him up in the water and tred the water beneath, holding the two of them up. It was a silly sort of dream, because Joshua still had his tubes in the middle of the lake but no tank, and, also, he was conviently naked.

Dirty prick, a voice echoed in the back of Seungcheol's head pointedly.

The one he had had last night was nothing short of absolutely bloody filthy, though.

Joshua hadn't had his essentialy oxygen tank, sliding down in a stretch like a cat onto Seungcheol's bed, completely naked and nothing of his being apart from the light pink buttplug slipped inside of him...the view had changed from Seungcheol sitting on side of the bed, looking to Joshua coming over on the bottom left-hand corner of the bed to Joshua slinked over in front of Seungcheol, his backside with the buttplug barely a few centimeters from Seungcheol's abdomen, Joshua's dark eyes looking at him through half-lids, peering over his shoulder seductively.

Oh God, Seungcheol thought, feeling the blood of his body start to heat up his crotch as he got behind the wheel of the Rolls Royce Phantom, but, it wasn't just his dreams that was causing it. 

"Ih har ih oh eh-he." Joshua crooned softly to Seungcheol as they drove along. This car is so sexy.

"I think you're more." Seungcheol told Joshua, who chuckled.

"Ooh ah mih meh ooh?" Joshua asked. You have missed me too?

"I always seem to wake up to you for a few days and then I don't get that for weeks." Seungcheol told him. "It'll be nice to have that again."

Joshua's eyes observed him. "Buh ooh wahn oar an ah, eyeh?" He remarked. But you want more than that, right?

Seungcheol glanced over to him. 

"Ah uh wahn ooh ah oh muh seh weh ooh." Joshua's hand touched the inside of Seungcheol's thigh and stayed there, surrealistic and hot. I just want to have so much sex with you. "Ooh ih eh-we sih-hal weh." Joshua's hand slid up a bit more. Do it every single way. He leant over to Seungcheol, and, Seungcheol took a hand off the steering wheel so he could intwine it with Joshua's, but, that wasn't what Joshua had in mind. Seungcheol's foot accidentally trembled on the accelerator, sending them up another ten kilometers an hour; Thank fuck a copper didn't just see that, Seungcheol thought to himself, shivering internally as Joshua sucked each of his fingers into his mouth, on by one.

When they got back to Seungcheol's, even with the oxygen tank, Joshua clung onto him, kissing him to within an inch of his life, hands wrapping around his neck and into his hair, pulling and tugging and wanting without inclining to give Seungcheol a break.

"Oon-hol-ah..." Joshua crooned into Seungcheol's neck. Seungcheol-ah

Seungcheol took them into his bedroom, absolutely high with utter delight and the electrifying sensations of Joshua being with him, right here, wanting all of him, all of him to do anything, everything. Joshua hurried Seungcheol to get his clothes off quickly, and, Seungcheol had been more intent on slowly revealing Joshua, peeling away his layers one by one, but, Joshua hadn't been wanting of that.

"Noh, noh, noh..." He whispered, his lips bruising and swollen from how hard he was kissing Seungcheol. No, no, no. Joshua pulled Seungcheol onto the bed and straddled him, hands clawing and gripping at Seungcheol's skin. As Joshua kissed him again, Seungcheol could barely breathe and could barely think, but, Joshua's body made up for it. A few minutes in, Joshua's hand went down to touched Seungcheol, and, Seungcheol immediately knew something was wrong.

"Wha o-ihn oh?" Joshua asked him. What's going on.

"I-I...uh, I don't know, what do you mean?" Seungcheol leant up onto his elbows.

"Wha are ooh noh geh-hin harh?" Joshua asked, his fingertips touching Seungcheol between his legs. Why are you not getting hard? "Ah eye ooh eh-huh or are ooh uhs ihn ooh-hih eye ooh aw-wayh uh-hin are?" He added, something snapping, something bitter in his garbled tone of voice. Aren't I good enough or are you just been stupid like you always fucking are?

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" Seungcheol looked up at him. "Why are you doing this?"

"Eye doh ooh wah eh?" Something anxious and horrifically miserable came over Joshua's face. Why don't you want me? "Doh ooh lah eh eh-he-ore? Doh oo wah eh eh-he-ore?" Don't you love me anymore? Don't you want me anymore?

Before Seungcheol could answer, Joshua climbed off of him and started gathering his clothes. He had just pulled his underwear and jeans on when Seungcheol decided enough was enough. He wasn't letting Joshua do this. Not to him. He wasn't making a mount out of a molehill and breaking his heart like this.

"Josh, no, come here, please." Seungcheol gathered Joshua up in his arms, burying his face into the crook of Joshua's neck. "You can go home if you want, but, please, I don't want you to go. I want you to stay with me. I want to make love to you, I want to kiss you, I want you to be around. I want you to be in my life. Don't go. Don't leave me this way."

"Wha ae?" Joshua demanded of him, pushing Seungcheol away. What way? Seungcheol stumbled back, getting more and more severely hurt by each second went by where he had to bear witness to that look in Joshua's eyes, directed at him. "Oar noh ae ah awh." He said. You're no way at all. He gestured to Seungcheol's crotch.

Seungcheol scoffed, running his hands through his hair, trying not to get upset at Joshua's stupid behaviour. "Well, if you would give me a fucking second I would." He told Joshua.

Suddenly, the deadest expression he had ever seen in someone's eyes overcame Joshua's features. Somehow, Seungcheol without even knowing had made a decision for him. Joshua reached over to the end of the bed and pulled his shirt on over his head, avoiding looking at Seungcheol but when Seungcheol did catch his eye, it was full of hate; as though Seungcheol was a living sin.

"Ah awh ooh al-ah meh are suh-hoe ooh beh uh ooh ha uh-hin ah." Joshua eventually spat at him. And all you Alpha Pagan men are supposed to be up to the fucking task. "Ooh uh-hin beh suh-ooh-meh cuh." You're nothing but sub-human cunts.

Seungcheol looked at Joshua, mirth filling up his bloodstream. "Don't do this to me." Seungcheol told Joshua. "Not after these last ten years." His eyes wetted. "Don't you fucking do this to me."

"Ey, ooh-ihd." Joshua looked at him viciously. Hey, stupid. "Ah doh ih a uhk, ooh-ihd. Ooh noh, ooh oh uh-hin duh ooh doh eh-hen eh-erve ah nae lie uh ooh-ah ing ooh. Uh all ooh wha ooh are. Ooh-ihd. Uh-hin ooh-ihd."Joshua didn't back down, firing bullets into Seungcheol, as many as he could. I don't give a fuck, stupid. You know, you're so fucking dumb you don't even deserve a name like us human beings do. Just call you what you are. Stupid. Fucking stupid.

"So how stupid are you that you tell an arms dealer that you love him?" Seungcheol commented drily, pushing his hair back over his head.

joshua stopped for a moment. "Ah ooh eh-hin-ing eh?" He asked. Are you threatening me?

Seungcheol smiled, nasty, animalistic, cold. "I'll kill you." He chuckled softly, covering his face with his hands for a moment. "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!" He roared, seizing Joshua by his neck and pulling him to him. Monsoon scented rain fell from Joshua's body; he was terrified, unable to swim, about to drown, but, Seungcheol couldn't give a fuck.

His heart had been on the bottom floors, the deepest possible, of the largest oceans for the past decade.

"Kiss me," He said to Joshua, becoming feverish, desperate, knowing that if Joshua was going to make this the end it was going to be Seungcheol doing at as he wanted, fuck Joshua. "Kiss me, kiss me..."

Just before Seungcheol's lips brushed Joshua's, Joshua fell over sideways, and knocked over the antique cabinet in Seungcheol's bedroom. It smashed to the ground, it's stained glass windows, made in the 1850's smashing, and all the valueables inside ruining to. 

Seungcheol looked at it in horror, his body killing itself even more, toxic, vicious, cold, shredding itself apart.

"NO!" seungcheol roared at the sight of the mess. Joshua grabbed his tank and ran. The last words he was to ever say to seungcheol was:

"Ey, ooh-ihd." Hey, stupid.

As Seungcheol sunk to the ground.

Joshua had walked five blocks, and, then, had got a cab back to he, Junhui and Minghao's apartment. It had only then been the middle of the day, and, Joshua had ranted all morning to Minghao what a pathetic loser and a violent freak that Seungcheol was. He needed to be shot, he needed to be locked up, he didn't deserve someone like Joshua himself, he couldn't even put in the effort. That day went by as it was, but, truly, the next morning had been happy. Joshua was sitting on the couch in the sitting room flicking through paperwork from Jihoon's studios, and Minghao was sitting at the kitchen table with his bare feet up on the surface, hand-sewing the hem of a child's christening gown. Joshua had even't thought about Seungcheol, and didn't even care. Junhui had been in a bad mood, but, they had put that down to his partner falling pregnant - not that that was bad news, it was cause for celebration - and him having to get used to someone else for the first time in years.

Junhui came into the sitting room, and, Joshua smiled up at him before going back to his paperwork, a ink marker pointing at dots and circling other things on the printed script. Joshua had thought that Junhui was watching the television over his head, but, he hadn't been. He had been staring at the back of Joshua's head, trying to resist the urge to kill him.

Junhui suddenly ripped Joshua's head back and his teeth ripped into Joshua's throat before picking him up by his throat and slamming him against the wall. 

"WHY THE FUCK DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS TO SEUNGCHEOL?!" Junhui roared at Joshua, strangling him. Minghao screamed at him to stop, screamed for him to stop because otherwise he was calling the police. Junhui repeatedly punched Joshua in the stomach and face, shaking his being into Joshua was beyond hopeless, utterly limp. Junhui threw Joshua threw the air and onto the couch, breathing heavily, an animal unleased. Minghao was terrified; he couldn't fend off Junhui, he had no way on controlling the situation without been hurt too. Junhui spat at Joshua, as though he was disgusting, a piece of excrement. "WHY THE FUCK DO YOU KEEP CARRYING ON ABOUT THE ONLY PERSON IN THE FUCKING WORLD WHO CARES LIKE HE DOES?! DON'T TREAT HIM LIKE SHIT! YOU FUCKING BIBLE-BASHING CUNT!"

Joshua shook, tears spilling down from his eyes, absolutely terrified to the core as Junhui stormed out of the apartment and slammed the door behind him with such a force that it echoed for moments afterwards and made the crockery in the cupboards rattle. Minghao came over to Joshua in the couch from the kitchen table; he sat down beside him and wrapped his arms around him.

"You don't have to do anything." Minghao said. "You don't ever have to see him again. You don't ever have to talk to him again. You don't ever have to think about him, ok?" Minghao tucked in Joshua's face to his chest and held on tightly. Inside, he was shaken to.

The only time he had ever heard of Junhui exploding like that was when that drug addict they were attending to in a hotel smashed his partners head into the floor so Junhui stomped the addict's head into the toilet.

Joshua was covered in blood and Junhui's spit was in his hair. 

Joshua's face moved up into Minghao's neck. "Don't leave me." He whispered.\par  
Minghao stroked Joshua's hair down. "I'm never going to leave you, I promise."

Minghao pulled back from Joshua, just to observe him and how much he was bleeding, but, as he did, he and Joshua's eyes met and Minghao couldn't look away from the hypnotic darkness. Minghao unconciously leant in, thinking to himself that it was as though there were stars in those eyes, and, Joshua's dry, bleeding lips peeled apart to press over his flawless, smooth ones.

It was barely a minute later and they were having sex, Joshua's jeans pushed down around the middle of his thighs, and Minghao's head bobbing up and down in his lap. 

They both breathed too heavy, and, their brains only related to thoughts concerning that moment. Joshua's hips brushed up to Minghao's face, pressing himself into Minghao harder and harder, hitting the back of his throat every time, on every single thrust. Joshua couldn't help but feel incomprehensibly electrified everytime Minghao's moaned around his member, and, the sight of Minghao's spit slipping from his mouth and down the sides of Joshua's length.

Some people could describe it as imperfect, as messy, but, to Joshua, he knew that Seungcheol wouldn't never be capable of doing it like that.

But how do you know? A voice in the back of his head murmured. You never let him touch you

Only seconds went by, and, in them, Joshua began to cry, he couldn't help it. It was completely silent, apart from his chest juttering in and out a few times, and tears slipping down from the outer corners of his eyes to his temples and then into his hair.


	22. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungcheol moves on and finds a happy lover in omega, Yoon Jeonghan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have not updated in the longest time, bloody hell, I can't believe how long it's been! I'm so sorry! I wrote this bit just now and...I'm too busy! Publish more tomorrow!!!

It took six weeks for things to heal. Joshua was very ill for two weeks over that period, but, recovered. He and Junhui made up, and, quietly at the back of his consience as he tried to move on from the hopeless task of Choi Seungcheol, Joshua knew that so much of the blame rested on his shoulders. Nothing much changed as far as his body went, but, there were more things than that to think of.

Both Joshua and Seungcheol seperately wondered just how the two of them had managed to fuck their individual lives up so much. 

None of the Choi's dared to bring up Joshua, and, none said his name. And, in all honesty, Jean-Christian - though just a friend - had filled up the hole in Seungcheol's life that Joshua had left. Even though the agony still remained of Joshua in faint places, with Jean-Christian around, Seungcheol never got devestatingly lonely. 

Jean-Christian had convinced Seungcheol to get back out on the dating scene, not to be thrown off and miserable, and, Seungcheol, having taken his advice, was so glad he did. 

"Ah, mon cherie," Jean-Christian greeted Seungcheol's lover of sorts - trust the French when it came to that term, as always - with a kiss on both cheeks and a extra one on the nose because he was cheeky, and, neither Yoon Jeonghan or Seungcheol would mind. 

"Bonjour amour." Jeonghan greeted Jean-Christian back. 

Jeonghan was a omega, tall and pretty in a mildly effiminate way with long black hair, and, he suited Seungcheol down to the ground.

There was a catch with Jeonghan that Seungcheol knew might appall others, his opinion.

With Jeonghan, un-like Joshua, he never had to worry if he would stop breathing in the middle of the night. 

"Hey, you." Jeonghan came over to Seungcheol in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Seungcheol's neck and kissing him intently and deeply. Behind Jeonghan's back, Seungcheol flicked Jean-Christian the v's, knowing that the Frenchman was watching. One of Jeonghan's hands combed through Seungcheol's hair, and, Seungcheol flicked Jean-Christian the v's more urgently, a silent call of "Bugger off, the mon something-a-French-rather seems to be horny, fuck off!"

Jean-Christian retreated into the sitting room while Seungcheol and Jeonghan practically devoured one another in the kitchen.

Both men thought.

Jean-Christian thought about that young tailor with the mullet, Minghao, and, Seungcheol thought about how, yes, he was trying to lose himself in Jeonghan's ready kisses so he didn't think about Joshua's kisses. 

Seungcheol moaned slightly as Jeonghan's scent of black ice in the damp spring filled up the air, and Jeonghan's teeth grazed his lower lip gently.

"Bed, now." Jeonghan whispered to Seungcheol, their noses and foreheads pressed together, Jeonghan's fingertips knotted in the collar of Seungcheol's shirt, pulling him down. "Sex, now. All French people can cook, right? Tell Jean-Christian to not let the house burn down."

Meanwhile, all over the city, eight men - Junhui, Minghao, Jihoon, Jean-Christian, Seungcheol, Joshua, Jeonghan, Soonyoung and Seokmin - wondered just how much sex ruled their lives, and, how much they let it. How much they wanted it to be.

How much they needed it to be.

In Seungcheol's bedroom, he and Jeonghan having got up the two flights of stairs, at the first moment that Seungcheol saw the gap between Jeonghan's thighs he had this utterly uncontrollable desire, running wild, to plant himself directly between them. Jeonghan, already lain down back on the bed for him, gazed at him intently. In a curious way, Jeonghan had a strangely Alpha aura for an omega being, just something within him. Seungcheol had a lifelong habit taught to him by his Father of analyzing people who come into his life, and, from this, Seungcheol could tell things about Jeonghan; Jeonghan wasn't the one to scream or shout or create a earthly hell of noise if they had an argument, if things went bad.

He'd do something psychotic, instead.

Seungcheol knew people would be shocked to see he always picked out the bad side of people before the good. "But why?!" The lesser, dumber human beings would howl. 

"Because the dark side shows them more honestly than anything else." Three generations of Choi men would respond with explicit honesty and life experience. 

Jeonghan's eyes lowered down to half-lids blinked slowly, a sensual, small smile coming onto his face as Seungcheol laid down on the bed beside him instead of directly getting on top of him. 

"You're so good at that." Jeonghan turned onto his side and kissed Seungcheol, one hand curving over one side of Seungcheol's face. "I've been wanting to ride you since I last saw you."

Seungcheol chuckled softly. "Dirty bitch." He murmured, his hand slipping naturally around Jeonghan's hips, half helping him up as Jeonghan straddled him; one of Seungcheol's legs rose up with his knee pointed by foot flat on the bed, giving a level of position for Jeonghan to move in the way that Seungcheol knew he liked to.

"You like doing it right?" Jeonghan asked, referring to Seungcheol stretching him open. Seungcheol's eyes, dark and heady, hummed in response, his hand wrapping around Jeonghan and pulsing him a few times. Jeonghan gave a soft side, a grin coming onto his face.

"Good alpha." He purred. "You're good at this."

Jeonghan slid off of Seungcheol's body and, further like a stretching cat, bent his spine down in a smooth under-arc with his arms stretched out before him, hands clasped, with his legs apart and his entrance visible for Seungcheol to work on. Seungcheol groaned softly at the sight of Jeonghan as he fetched the lube from the bedside table in his room.

"You're so pretty, baby." Seungcheol laid down beside Jeonghan again, and, they briefly kissed, Jeonghan still slunk down and spread for Seungcheol, both of the men's heads turning to the side so that their mouths could contact.

"Mm, Cheol-ah, come on..." Jeonghan quietly begged, his half-lidded eyes becoming even more hazy. 

As Seungcheol moved around behind Jeonghan, he was surprised to see how wet the slightly younger man was; Jeonghan had told him that sometimes he had a hard time producing slick due to a freak accident when he was younger. 

"It was from the first time I ever had sex." Jeonghan told Seungcheol frankly but not without a certain intent for the intimacy of the past ages before. "I bled everywhere the first time it happened; I wasn't in any pain, and, neither was the guy, but, well, my own fault really." Jeonghan grinned somewhat bashfully, glancing up to the ceiling of Seungcheol's sitting room briefly. "I developed a bit of a blood kink, if you like." Jeonghan's eyes slid down to meet Seungcheol's. "Pain kink. I know now it's really unhealthy and I must have been a bit fucking weird in my relationship with him, but, the pain felt so good and the blood - I was just amazed at how much could spill out of me - it's so fucked-up to hear, I know, I'm sorry, love." Jeonghan pulled a cigarette out of a half-crumpled pack he kept in his jacket pocket, the garment thrown over the arm of the chesterfield sofa, and, Seungcheol, a more common smoker, got his lighter out of his pocket and lit Jeonghan's cigarette. "I can go months and months without any, and, oh, only about a year ago, if I ever touched myself I was rough inside, scarred, and, even at the lightest touch, I'd bleed." Jeonghan inhaled some cigarette smoke and then exhaled in the only way that smoker's did, long and heavy and slow through their nose. "If I'm really turned on, I can produce a bit, but, I think I fucked myself up a bit, right?" There was nonetheless a twinkle in Jeonghan's dark-brown eyes as he spoke.

Jeonghan moaned quietly, evidently clenching his jaw, and moving forward and back once slightly as Seungcheol bit at the back of his thigh before running the flat of his tongue over the beginning to Jeonghan inside. This time, Jeonghan really did moan at the wet heat that Seungcheol seemed to inject his bones with. 

"You taste so good, Han." Seungcheol told Jeonghan, licking over him again. Jeonghan shivered at the touch of Seungcheol's tongue. After a few moments, Seungcheol carefully inserted his index finger into Jeonghan to be within him, and, he was rewarded with a long, slow, smoker's exhale. Seungcheol knew that Jeonghan had been smoking more since they had start stepping out and always falling back into Seungcheol's bed, getting on top of each other's bodies. Seungcheol didn't mind, because, it meant that he could have the freedom to smoke just as much as ever as well. He could do a packet a day, and, it would turn Jeonghan on, making Jeonghan nuzzle his face into Seungcheol's hair and shoulder, murmuring about how sexy he smelt.

Jeonghan wasn't like Joshua who could die in his sleep, brutalized lungs breathing in the smokey scent of Seungcheol's skin.

There was a bond between the two of them. It wasn't quite love. For Seungcheol still, for eternity, Joshua was the ultimate spark, the ultimate connection, the ultimate high, the ultimate love. Seungcheol was sure that he was never going to fully recover after these last ten years of being devoted to the terminally-ill man. But, for Seungcheol and Jeonghan, it was something else equally as powerful.

"Seungcheol..." Jeonghan called out softly as Seungcheol inserted a second finger inside of him and worked him open, their Alpha and Omega scents flooding the air around them blissfully.

Joshua Hong's eyes flew open at the sound of Seungcheol's name, so clearly said in the air that it had automatically awoken his system. There had been a feeling in Joshua, as one felt on the edge of a cliff, just as they fell, or, just as they recovered from falling...

Joshua realized a second later in the dark-blue lit sitting room of he, Minghao and Junhui's home that there was no one there. And it was getting late. Joshua knew if he didn't get some lights on soon he could lose himself in the dark. Minghao was working late at his tailor's shop in town for a rich businessman who was getting married and had somehow "accidentally lost a stone" in the last week through fretting, and, as a result, needing his suit cut in half to fit him, essentially. Junhui was working late at the hospital, and, after his shift, he was going to his former ambulance partner's house for dinner; she was now two months pregnant, beginning to show, having a lovely pregnancy apparently - "Her hair is great, her skin's gorgeous, her nails are brilliant -" Junhui was telling Minghao and Joshua that morning, half-laughing as he went, affectionately toned of the woman who was his favourite in the world - and, the smile couldn't have been wiped off his face by anything. 

Joshua still couldn't believe what had just happened.

It was as though someone had been right there, in his ear.

Talking to him.

Joshua shivered, getting up in their apartment to go and turn the big lights of the sitting room on.

On the other side of the city, Jean-Christian borrowed Seungcheol's Bentley Continental and drove away into Seoul's city centre; over the last few weeks, Seungcheol had taught him how to navigate the densely over-populated city, and, with it, how to be a cheeky bugger and get around all the chaos. 

It was of this method that Jean-Christian found Xu Minghao's tailors before he felt his skin would rip open all by itself. 

Jean-Christian parked and locked up the Bentley a few cars down the street of the old-world buildings, and, initally, when he apprached Minghao's shop, the only sign of life was the burglur security method, beautifully dressed mannequins in the window with all of the lights turned on behind. Jean-Christian's heart puttered in a pathetic way, a motor starting up or slowing down, he didn't know which. Unbeknownst to him, on the second storey of the shop, Minghao was looking down at his head. 

"I know you, right?"

Jean-Christian's head snapped up to look at the upper half of Minghao's body leaning out of a open window, peering down at him.

"Oui, you do, Minghao." Jean-Christian smiled, suddenly, his motor of a heart roaring loudly, coming to brilliant life. "Can I be seeing you for a few moments, please, yes?"

Minghao blinked softly for a few moments, his lips peeling apart, just the most millimetric crack. 

"Yes." Minghao nodded, allowing that. 

Jean-Christian waited as Minghao came downstairs, and, a little while later, the front door of the shop open for him. Jean-Christian thought that Minghao had lost weight; he seemed skinnier, smaller, but, Jean-Christian knew that it wasn't the case, it was just that he hadn't seen hair or toe of the Chinese man in nearly two months.

Minghao seemed to hesitate on his doorstep before allowing Jean-Christian to cross it; his monolid eyes ran up and down the Frenchman once, and, warmth, familiar and kindling, fluttered beneath Jean-Christians skin. 

"Come in." Minghao slipped away quietly inside, without sound, without disturbance.

-

But Joshua just couldn't not think about it, about Seungcheol.

He had to see him. Joshua wanted to see him. 


	23. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joshua falls back into the cycle of longing for Seungcheol, and, as Seungcheol tries to move on with Jeonghan, his Grandfather won't stop interfering. Minghao thinks about his future with Jean-Christian, and, Junhui looks up on Seokmin and Soonyoung as they recover from asbestos related illness.
> 
> Joshua changes his life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a really, really long time for this chapter. I just couldn't write this book for months and months and months. I don't know quite why I ran away from it so much; one day I was tired with it, and, then, I just about perpetually ignored it for all of that time. I'm still really upset about that lost scene from the last chapter. I'm going to have to fix that, I'm sorry

Seungcheol first noticed it on his story. He had shared a column writting in the British newspaper the Daily Telegraph about the British Government to involve the surfaces of the Choi families business in it's new-years rollout of supplies and other weaponry for the British Army position in Afganistan. Seungcheol was an observant man, always keeping an eye on things. And that's how he knew.

Joshua had a spam account of sorts, and Instagram one, that he said he got away with posting very unpolitically correct things on.

It was with that account that he had seen Seungcheol's story, and, therefore, Seungcheol had seen as well. 

He can't help but be attracted back, can he? Seungcheol thought. He doesn't forget about me

He was in the office with his Grandfather, and, a vinyl record of "Be My Baby" by The Ronettes was playing on the record. Seungcheol was trying not to smile; it wasn't due to Joshua, but, due to his Grandfather occasionally wandering about the office, swaying his rheumatic as much as he could and making "sexy" gestures over his chest and hips occasionally.

"Yeah, when you were twenty-six." Seungcheol grinned before squeezing his eyes shut, ducking his head down as the old man swung his hips around in a circle. "Did you dance around to this song with Nan?" He asked.

"No, but I did dance to this with Fenella." The old man answered. Fenella had been Grandfather Choi's "other woman" since 1975, three years after Seungcheol's Father's birth. Fenella had been a Scottish-French beauty to a single Scottish Father who had come over to Korea during the Korean War; her French Mother - daughter of a european union embassy official - had wanted to abort her, but, Fenella's Father Fergus had frightened any thought of abortion out of her with a severe beating. As soon as the Frenchwoman had had the baby she had gone back to France. The struggles of a single-father had weighed down on Fergus considerably, leading him to have a shocking temper that Fenella inherited, but, as a result, it meant that fire clashed with fire.

What had led to them meeting in 1975 was a passionate love affair that had continued for decades. Seungcheol had once asked his Father why Nan had never left. "She said she put too much hard work in." His Father had explained. Seungcheol bit his tongue, citing reason to say that the old bitch had never been around most of the time, especially not to care for a child that was still hers. Seungcheol often thought that it was no wonder his Grandfather was drawn to Fenella - foul-mouthed and fiery, red-headed and pale-skined, a gentle scatter of freckles like biscuit crumbs in tone everywhere on her body. Seungcheol had always known Fenella; she took place on the edge of the family nicely; gifts and cards on birthdays, easter's, christmas's and new year's. 

Fenella in the end had died in 2009 from blood cancer; or, rather, it was the blood cancer that caused a clot to form in the organ of her heart. 

Grandfather Choi had a picture of her from when she was about forty, in a brown-suede and brown-fleece lined coat with bootleg jeans, dark-brown leather boots, a light-blue turtleneck top with Lennon glasses and her red hair pulled back into a ponytail with a massive bundle of carnations that she had stolen from the back garden of someone she hated, wrapping them in brown paper and red ribbon. She died at sixty-nine, so, when Seungcheol thought about it, that photo must have had to have been taken in 1980.

"What's up, lad?" The old man asked. "You've gone a funny colour."

"What?" Seungcheol's expression dropped.

"What's come over you, now?" The old man insisted.

"Nothin', pa, we're right." Seungcheol assured him.

"That boy sendin' you pictures of 'imself?" Grandfather Choi squinted slightly, as though he could magically look into his grandchild's soul with that mere gesture.

Seungcheol nearly killed himself laughing. "No, pa."

The old man hummed. "Whose the rebound?"

"Pardon?"

"The one I can smell on you."

This time, Seungcheol well and truly went pale. If Grandfather had noticed, then, surely, his bloody Father had.

"And don't you be worrying about your Dad, lad's too daft to sense any fucking thing." Grandfather waved a wrinked, rheumatically swollen hand dismissevly. "He's not around you like I am, now." Grandfather took a seat back at his desk. "Tell me about this one you've been doing mischief with."

Seungcheol began to smile again. "Jeonghan." Seungcheol mumbled.

"Ah, you know I'm fucking deaf."

"Jeonghan." Seungcheol said clearer.

"You'd better let me see this one, then." The old man peered at him. "Nothing that I have to worry about on behalf of you?"

Seungcheol shook his head. "No, pa."

"Good enough, I'll be around this evening, then."

Seungcheol gave a minute, startled burst out laughter.

"Are you now?" He asked.

Grandfather Choi nodded supremely.

-

Seungcheol tried to figure out with Ivan Morova how on earth he was going to figure this out. No way in hell would Jeonghan want to "meet the family" let alone the Choi family patriarch, the old dragon indeed the man was. 

"Your Grandfather needs to remember to not interfere." Ivan Morova muttered around a cigarette, adjusting the bolts on the cap of a new tyre he had put onto his daughter's Hyundai. 

"I know." Seungcheol crossed his arms, sitting on a work bench.

"Your Grandfather needs to remember that it is ok for young people to fuck things up." Ivan waved his hands in the air in gesture.

"Hm." Seungcheol hummed.

"But not the way you fuck things up." Ivan Morova pointed a stubby Russian finger at him.

Seungcheol frowned.

-

Joshua hovered over texting Seungcheol. He stared down at the last conversations he and Seungcheol had ever had by text, from months and months ago. Joshua found the last ever "love you" that Seungcheol had texted him. His insides twisted painfully. Joshua bit his lip, not sure what to do. 

Every part of him hurt, every part of him was afriad, but, he wanted it so much. Joshua felt that he hadn't really being thinking about Seungcheol in the sense that at any second a thought of him came across that made Joshua wince, but, Joshua knew that everything he had told himself was a lie by the way he was pining, by the way he was searching for Seungcheol, and, doing the ultimate thing:

Getting back with him.

-

Junhui looked over at Minghao. His paramedic partner was getting fitted for maternity dresses, skirts and blouses by Minghao as a form of very-early baby gift to her. The pretty young woman's stomach was swelling gently, and, when Minghao went to measure her bump before then allowing another five-to-eight inches, the tiny creature within began to kick its feet, making the surface of her stomach undulate. Junhui smiled.

"Do you know what you're having?"

"A little girl."

"Oh, that's lovely."

"Dad's thrilled; I thought he might have wanted a little boy to kick a ball about with but he's gone absolutely delirously happy about having a little girl. He said to me last night, "I can do faeries and pink stuff - of course I can!"."

Minghao and the pregnant lady laughed.

"Junnie, come here." She beckoned. She picked up a design book and pointed one out to Junhui. "What do you think about one?"

It was the "little people" section of Minghao's catalouge, and, for the next couple of minutes, Junhui actually had a nice time pointing out things he thought were quite cute, especially for his favourite lady's little one.

"You surprise me." Minghao said softly at the end of the fitting. 

"Hm?" Junhui looked around to him.

"You're so good with her." Minghao smiled, his hand running over the lower half of his face, brushing over his mouth. 

"She's a good chick." Junhui smiled slightly.

The two of them went silent for a few moments.

"When Seungcheol's family were on the television this morning about their deal with the British, did you notice how Joshua went out of the room?" Minghao couldn't help saying. He turned around to put his tape measure and pins back into his sewing box.

"But he listened to that Pagan song." Junhui remarked.

"What?" Minghao turned around.

"He was listening to "Wasteland, Baby"." Junhui elaborated.

Minghao's eyesbrows shot up. "You're kidding me." He said of the matter, turning around.

"I think he's trying to change a bit." Junhui glanced up to the ceiling. "He was mumbling a bit in his sleep last night when I changed over his tank for him. He didn't wake up as I did it."

"What was he saying?" Minghao asked.

"Mumbling the lyrics to one of the songs under his breath." Junhui answered.

"The words that hung above

But never could form

Like a cry at the final

Breath that is drawn

Remember me, love

When I'm reborn

As the shrike to your sharp

And glorious thorn..."

-

As Joshua sat on the knee of the alpha drummer of the band he worked with, all of them chatting and laugh, a strange image appeared in his mind. A Shrike. A bird that made it's life in hawthorn hedgerows, amongst the sharp thorns and aphrodisiac leaves, and if rivals or predators came to kill the shrike, the shrike would impail them on the hawthorn thorns.

Joshua didn't know why he suddenly thought of it.

He just did.

-

Later that night, Seungcheol was torn. His Grandfather liked a jazz record whenever he came to his grandson's home, but, he knew Jeonghan would hate the jazz music with a passion.

His Grandfather also liked wine. Jeonghan hated it.

I wish I was still with Joshua, Seungcheol fleetingly thought, and, then, the thought stopped him. He couldn't believe he had just thought of Joshua; had conciously thought of Joshua and Joshua's name. 

And everything was just...

"FUCK!" Seungcheol suddenly swore, jerking in a painful wince. He couldn't do this. Seungcheol pulled out his phone.

"Grandad, look, you just can't come tonight." Seungcheol told him firmly when the old man answered.

"You -"

"No, I can't have you here and Jeonghan here -" Seungcheol's attempt to cut off his Grandfather failed.

"You don't want me to meet Jeonghan because you know that you should still be with Joshua." The old man clearly told his grandchild. Seungcheol swallowed against a painfully dry throat.

Seungcheol went to hang up, but, he couldn't help the shout that ripped through him. "JOSHUA DOESN'T FUCKING WANT ME!"

-

Jean-Christian and Minghao lay on the floor of his studio in his shop. The curtains were closed and the lights were lowered down to a soft glow.

"Why don't you have someone?"

"I never really needed someone." Minghao admitted. "I always had Junhui, and then Josh."

"Didn't you ever need something more?"

"They're amazing." Minghao simply, softly answered. "And I could never find anyone as good as them, as wonderful as them."

"Do you love anymore more than them?"

"No."

"Do you think you could love anyone as much as them?"

Minghao looked at Jean-Christian, his lips peeling apart slightly.

I think you are kind," Jean-Christian said. "I think you are intelligent. I also think that you are like no one else." 

Minghao couldn't believe his ears.

"And I like you when you sleep." Jean-Christian smiled. "You look so nice."

-

"Hello, you." 

Soonyoung beamed up at Junhui. Junhui took a seat by his bed in Jihoon's house. Seeing as Seokmin and Soonyoung were living with Jihoon for the forseeable future, Jihoon had organized proper beds and had made space for them, not wanting them to be on air-mattresses and divans for months and months and months.

Soonyoung and Seokmin were both nearly at the end of their six-month period once-a-week antibiotic steroid injections for their asbestos-caused illness. Junhui had offered to do the injections at home for the last few weeks; it was influenza season currently and Soonyoung and Seokmin only had one lung, one-and-a-half lung capacity function at the best. 

Seokmin and Soonyoung had steadily got back to doing their University, and, Junhui examined Seokmin's laptop before he gave him the needle, Seokmin having being working together with Soonyoung in his bedroom.

"Wrong date, mate." Junhui pointed out. "Are they notes or -"

"Yeah, yeah, just notes - which one is it?" Seokmin asked. Seokmin was doing a degree in political and nationalistic history, circa the early 15th centuries to the late 20th.

"The British kept control of East Berlin until the late fifties." Junhui commented. "You know about that?"

Seokmin nodded. 

"Good." Junhui smiled a little bit. He swabbed some antiseptic over the tiny puncture in Seokmin's elbow and pressed a piece of cotton wool and then a band-aid over it. Junhui gave his attentions to Soonyoung. "And how have you been?"

Soonyoung chuckled. "Uh...I..." He faltered, his face colouring.

"What's being happening? Tell me." Junhui said. "Don't be embarrassed, I can't help you otherwise."

Soonyoung mumbled.

"Soonyoung-ah." Seokmin prodded his shoulder gently, all of them sitting on Soonyoung's bed.

"Blood when I have a leak." Soonyoung repeated.

Junhui wasn't impressed. "Don't you ever halt on telling me something like that again." He told Soonyoung. "Does it hurt when you urinate?"

"No, but, sometimes when I'm asleep I get this horrible sort of...like a blunt sharp...digging pain...you know, inside." Soonyoung gestured down to his crotch. "On the right side...you know, inside."

"How long?" Junhui quipped.

"On and off since last week." Soonyoung swallowed.

"How much are you drinking?"

"Normal amount."

"Context." Junhui looked squarely at him.

"About three 500ml bottles of plain water a day and then a coke and a coffee." Soonyoung shrugged slightly, a bit anxious.

"Anything in particular you haven't been eating recently?" Junhui inquired.

"No a great deal of red meat - I just haven't had the taste for it - not much bread, not anything really sugary, and, I guess, not much fruit and vegetables and stuff apart from...I've mostly just been eating chicken, potatoes, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes, the salad wrap bread things, apples and pears." Soonyoung explained.

"Have some red meat - even a tiny amount, Soonyoung - and I'm going to get you something from the pharmacy. You might have a bit of urinary tract infection, and, call me tomorrow morning." Junhui told him.

"Is it tablets?" Seokmin asked.

"It's a powder you stir into hot water - you can take it with cold water but making it like tea is better, but, you have to drink it hot - or warm at least - don't let it cool off once hot." Junhui mimicked.

Soonyoung nodded.

"How's Joshua?" Seokmin asked.

"Heard this really loud, whistling sound last night." Junhui grinned. "It's Josh snoring with the tracheotomy."

They laughed.

"Woke the poor thing up, had no idea what was going on." Junhui reached into his aid kit and got out a notebook and a pen, jotting down things concerned with Soonyoung.

"What if it's not cleared up by the morning?" Soonyoung asked, pointing down at his crotch.

"It means you have a bladder infection." Junhui answered.

"Do I take a medicine drink for that?" Soonyoung checked.

"No, it means you go into hospital for blood samples and a ultrasound to check if you're swelling, how bad the infection is, and, see if it's bacteria is affecting your lower intestines and kidneys." Junhui explained.

"Oh, fuck me." Soonyoung whispered out of shock.

"But in the middle of the night if you get bad pain in either your penis, abdomen, or stomach, call me immediately and got Jihoon to take you to hospital." Junhui added.

"Why?" Soonyoung questioned.

"It can burst." Junhui deadpanned.

Soonyoung looked like he was going to through up.

"Usually bladder infections form a pocket of infection on the inside of the organ -" Junhui continued. 

"Ugh." Soonyoung curled up in on himself.

"Like a massive pimple as it were -" Junhui went on. 

"Jun." Seokmin pleaded.

"And it's not fucking good." Junhui prodded Soonyoung's shoulder. "Come on, arm out."

"You're really good at giving needles." Soonyoung mumbled.

Junhui smiled. "Thank you." He gently slid the needle tip into Soonyoung's arm painlessly. "It always frightened me when I start doing this job, that I'd accidentally hurt someone whether it was doing wound stitching, injections, things like that."

"What's the trickest form of them?" Seokmin asked.

"Stitching up the lining of the vagina and the uterus after it's ripped when a woman gives birth." Junhui answered. Seokmin and Soonyoung went wide-eyed and paled. "Because you actually can't see what you're doing, and, even though a baby has just come out, there's not really a great deal of room in there, and, she's already in enough pain." Junhui suddenly laughed. He couldn't help it. "Sorry, sorry!" He apoligsed, seeing how queasy Seokmin and Soonyoung looked.

-

Junhui saw Jihoon as he went out. 

"You wouldn't know what's wrong with my lawn-mower, would you?" Jihoon asked.

It turned out the clutch cable had snapped.

"How bad is it?"

"Well, you need a new clutch cable and please don't go to one of the mower shops; you'll get charged £120 and then they'll say there's not much they can do about it." Junhui told him. "I'll run down to town, grab you a new one - Victor mower, right? - and I'll come and fit it in."

Jihoon laughed. "How do you know how to repair mowers?"

"I had to learn mechanics when I got my motorcycle and I have to fix the ambulance sometimes because the government-hired blokes that are supposed to do it are a disgrace." Junhui remarked. "They say they've replaced the oil and they haven't, they don't fit in the headlight globes properly, and once I found one of their phones under the passenger seat with porno tabs open in the incognito section."

"Oh, isn't that great?" Jihoon replied sarcastically. "That'd be right."

"Easier just to do it myself." Junhui said. "I'll be back in half an hour, see you soon, mate."

-

Seungcheol had woken up that morning to Jeonghan sleeping far away from him on the opposite side of his bed, his back turned to him. Seungcheol thought that he must have done something wrong.

Seungcheol had gotten up by himself and was sorting out paperwork from his study in his sitting room when Jeonghan came and found him in his black jeans, black hat, and white shirt from the night before.

"Got to head off." Jeonghan smiled at him. "Call me soon." And, with a little wave, Jeonghan left.

Seungcheol reflected that he didn't even get a kiss, but, then, as he thought about it, he wasn't sure if he wanted a kiss from Jeonghan.

Especially not this morning.

Definitely not this morning.

Seungcheol observed the papers for him. Old signings from the 90's concerning France, the paperwork on their behalf of informing the German government that they refused to ever supply them - present or future - with military supplies produced by the Choi's after the Berlin wall had been knocked down. Then there were the legal documents concerning lawsuits against the Japanese Army for the dozen or so Airforce marshals that had been caught trying to steal from them. Yeah, who would have thought? Well, anyone outside Korea would have been surprised. Seungcheol loved how most of the Anglo-Saxon world carried on about racism towards the Negro-racial-descent and the Mongol-Asian/Mongol-Indo-racial-descent populations of the world but didn't account for the amount of internal racism that went on in the racial poplations own countries and continents.

Seungcheol knew to keep all of the paperwork but he couldn't help being tired of it all.

He got out his phone to call up Jean-Christian.

"I was just about to call you." Was the first thing Seungcheol heard from the Frenchman. Seungcheol could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm in the supermarket; as you can't get decent coffee and food in this country I'm going to take hold of your kitchen and stop myself from starving to death."

Seungcheol chuckled. "No worries." He answered.

"Do you have a non-sticking pie dish?" Jean-Christian asked.

Seungcheol blinked. "No fucking idea but I would say that I don't." He replied.

"I will buy one." Jean-Christian informed Seungcheol. "And do you have suitable implements for a bain marie?"

"A what?"

"I will buy these, also." Jean-Christian beamed on the other end of the line.

-

Joshua looked down at his phone, once again thinking, seriously, about texting Seungcheol.

Joshua knew it was a bloody nightmare, a sin against God, a mark on his life.

But Joshua missed him.

It's why he was looking Seungcheol up so much.

He missed him.

Absolutely missed him.

He missed the love and the affection and the genuinity of it that Seungcheol gave him.

Junhui was right. No one else was ever going to love him like Seungcheol did.

Joshua's eyes watered.

He just couldn't help...always being attracted to him.

Joshua shrunk in on himself.

-

Minghao was angry.

Finally - finally - he had been paid the £46,000 he was owed for doing the tailoring and other dressmaking for the wedding of that banker that had refused to pay him.

Minghao couldn't believe it had nearly being a year that he had had to wait to get paid.

It was ridiculous. It was just so fucking ridiculous.

Minghao ran a hand through his hair and then went outside to catch a cab to the city cemetry. 

There had been a old man Minghao had known called Walter; he had been made deaf at the age of eighteen, a digger in the Korean War trenches, a Kiwi native from New Zealand, a nearby north korean troup in Gyrenosang having gotten a hold through theft of a B-52 aircraft, which, in all honesty, was akin to stealing a Da Vinci on a weekend Eurostar trip to Paris. He had never married but had been in a relationship with a Korean lady called Miyeon or the last fifty odd years...and had somehow managed three children and a small tribe of grandchildren with her in the process. Minghao had met him because Walter was looking for someone to restore his old army jackets for his children to have once he passed on from "Prostate troubles". 

Minghao visited his grave at the cemetry - a beautiful plot beneath a old Elm tree by the wrought iron fence on the North-West side, where beyond the fence was pavements, a Edwardian-era cobblestoned road and then three-storey, slate-roofed houses, now turned into pretty little shops and expensive apartments, that had been built by and for sellers of the Welsh soap, calico, perfume and stone industry in East-Asia in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Minghao wouldn't have minded living in one of those old merchant houses; looking at a cemetry once hadn't been his cup of tea, but, now, at the thought of looking down over Walter each morning, what had once disconcerted Minghao didn't do so now.

It was becoming overcast now, raining. The wipers of the black cab went back and forth over the windscreens, getting away the rain. 

Minghao nearly went to sleep, the sound of the rain above his head on the cab roof.

Minghao faintly reflected he was in need of a brolley as he paid the cab-driver and then went into the florists next door to the cemetry that catered for the graves. In the florists was also a cafe, but, Minghao didn't buy anything that day apart from the flowers, Walter's favourite, a little box of purple pansies. Even though he was £46,000 richer that day, he didn't feel like paying a hipster £3.45 for a coffee when he could make one just as nice as home for about two pence. 

"Oh, no, you'll get wet love." A stout, maternal looking lady with soft-curly silver hair behind the counter of the cafe in a black apron and a lavender dress tutted, getting Minghao a brolley to use. 

"Thank you." Minghao a smiled a little bit at her and he recieved a very large one in return. Minghao walked out of the cafe and immediately the sound of the rain on the brolley above his head hit him. Minghao breathed in the cold, pure sharpness of the weather, but, the scent of the rain itself was blighted by city pollution. It bothered him as he traversed through the aisle of the cemetry over to the Elm trees where Walter was buried under.

"Hey, mate." Minghao smiled, remembering how Walter used to talk. "You're a bit sodden down there today, hey? I hope you're doing alright."

And, without conciously thinking about it, or, conciously being aware, Minghao told Walter all about Jean-Christian. Minghao usually would have sat down by the Elm tree but it was too wet. Too cold.

"I know Josh regrets Seungcheol so much, but, if Josh hadn't met Seungcheol, I'd never have met Jean-Christian." Minghao swallowed against the tightness in his throat. He looked down at Walter's grave, the granite stone darkened in tone by the rain, but, the brass-brush-dipped letters still illuminated bright. "I know that God that doesn't exist, and all the parlavour surrounding it, but I like to think you hear me sometimes."

Minghao then reflected that...one day, Walter had been saying that - something like that - to his own Father, to his Grandfather, loved ones dead. 

Minghao couldn't help but think about how one day he and Junhui would be saying the same thing about Joshua...to him...for him.

Minghao left Walter's pansies for him and he went home. 

He found Joshua there with Jihoon in the sitting room. They were sitting on the rug in the centre of the room with the evening news "Ey." Joshua smiled. Hey. Then, he took in Minghao's appearence. "Eye ah ooh ol weh?" Joshua asked. Why are you all wet?

"I went for a walk and then got drenched." Minghao smiled. "I stopped by at the cemetry and gave Walter some flowers - you remember him? Kiwi dude? Always said "maaate"?"

Joshua laughed croakily and nodded. "Air, e wer ool." Joshua answered Yeah, he was cool

"I'll be off in a minute." Jihoon said. He told Minghao about Junhui fixing his lawn mower.

"Yeah, he's good with machinery." Minghao agreed. "What went on it?"

"Clutch cable." Jihoon said.

"How old's the mower?" Minghao crossed his arms.

"Seven years old." Jihoon replied.

"Ah we uh huh ah-ow ha awh ower?" Joshua interrupted, spreading out his hands. Can we shut up about the lawn mower?

Jihoon laughed. "The band still wants that to be the first song on the album." Jihoon referred back to a song that Joshua had written ages ago for the band - well, part of it at least - on the same day that the army officials at the Choi's yard had behaved very, very badly.

Joshua adjusted the oxi-tank tubes over his ears. Unbeknowest to Joshua, Minghao looked at the way his eyes cast down for a few moments and his lips pursed slightly.

Unbeknowest to Minghao and Jihoon, Joshua was thinking about whether to change his life again.

Joshua told Minghao that he'd see Jihoon off in his car downstairs.

"Eye-ion, ahn ooh do meh a avor?" Joshua asked him. Jihoon, can you do me a favour?

"Yeah, sure." Jihoon answered.

"Ahn ooh ahe eh aoun ooh oon-hols?" Joshua questioned. Can you take me around to Seungcheol's?"

Jihoon's eyes widened. "...You sure about that?" He said, reaching out for Joshua's shoulder.

Joshua nodded.

"Do you want me to wait?" Jihoon got into his car and Joshua went around the other side. Jihoon repeated his question when Joshua was inside the car.

Joshua hesitated before shaking his head. "Noh, ah ill beh feye." Joshua assured him, gazing at Jihoon intently. No, I'll be fine.

"What's that you've got there?" As Jihoon drove, he glanced over to a letter that Joshua held in his thin hands.

"Ah oarh ah eye och ohn ah oor irh ahn eeh he dun'n aser, ah ih is wroo, wae a ooo mohens, ah, ih nuhhin ahhen, ah cuh ah own teh ooh an hen eeh ahn ohm bah aoun oar all meh oar ooh whaeher eeh wans." Joshua answered, fingering the letter previously in his pocket numbly, anxiously. I thought that I'd knock on the door first and if he doesn't answer, I'd slip this through, wait a few moments, and, if nothing happens, I'll come back down to you and then he can come back around or call me or do whatever he wants

"Ok." Jihoon glanced at him again. "Do you really -"

"Ohp alkin." Joshua quickly said. Stop talking.

Jihoon shut up but he pressed his lips tightly together for a moment. Don't start at me about worrying about you, he told Joshua in his head.

Soon, they were at Seungcheol's home.

Jihoon watched from his car as Joshua got up to Seungcheol's front door, and, Jihoon held his breath as Joshua knocked on the front door.

-

Jeonghan had been smiling at Seungcheol coyly across the table, trying to get his attention, but, it was no good even trying as Seungcheol carefully inserted a cotton-covered rod down the neck of a rifle, cleaning the inside of the weapon carefully, it being a 19th century antique and hideously valuable. Jeonghan sighed softly and instead looked down to a thing that Seungcheol had told him was a aircraft gage from a Vampire aeroplane. "I didn't know they had planes called that." Jeonghan had said earlier.

"Oh, they called them all sorts of things." Seungcheol had mumbled before with a smile on his face. "Be careful not to knock it off with your elbow - beneath the glass the face is covered with radium because back in 1943 it wasn't considered toxic and it's also quite valuable."

Jeonghan had gone to open his mouth to speak when a knock sounded on the door of the workshop below, not on their front door.

Seungcheol's eyes slid to the side slowly. He rested the gun down, gestured for Jeonghan to be quiet, and, wiping his hands on a old cut-up shirt that he used as cleaning rags for the grease on his hands, he went through the kitchen and into the hall before opening the door that led to the staircase for the workshop below.

Jeonghan couldn't help being very nervous all of a sudden. He didn't know why. It wasn't as though he felt threatened or unsafe in anyway, he...he just...

Expected something bad to happen. 

Jeonghan never saw the expression on Seungcheol's face as he opened the door with a knife in hand to see Joshua.

Seungcheol's insides felt like they vanished, and, within a heartbeat, he shut the door, but, Joshua croaked out in a longing for him that Seungcheol just couldn't ignore, and, besides, Joshua had half jammed himself in the bloody thing anyway. Seungcheol slid the knife into the back of his jeans and properly opened it so Joshua would be covered in bruises black and blue.

Each one stared at each other silently.

"What are you doing here?" Seungcheol said just as Joshua said, "Ahn ah uhm ihn? Heese, uh leh meh alk teh ooh." Can I come in? Please, just let me talk to you

Seungcheol swallowed thickly and shut the door behind Joshua.

They stood there silent again. Joshua came out with it, feeling the weight of the letter in his pocket dragging his soul down to the ground. Joshua got it out for Seungcheol.

"Fuck is that?" Seungcheol muttered and snatched it out of Joshua's hand, unfolding it.

"Oh ah ahn ell ooh wehow uhble." Joshua wrapped his arms around himself. So I can tell you without trouble

"Come here, come in here, don't just stand there." Seungcheol walked off into the workshop, reading the letter as he went, and, Joshua picked up his tank and followed him. Seungcheol clicked his fingers, pointing to the right-hand front side of a beautiful old Jaguar, and, Joshua stood there as with a turn-around flick of his wrist, Seungcheol spun out a dusty-looking chair. Within another two seconds, he had got a newspaper off of his work-bench and had put it down over the seat of the chair so Joshua could sit down without getting dirty. Seungcheol sat himself up on a old vinyl-leather bar-stool that was cracking and showing the white foam inside at the work-bench.

Joshua kept absolutely silent and looked at Seungcheol as he expressionlessly read the letter.

A few minutes later, Seungcheol looked up at Joshua, tight-jawed, and, let the letter drop from between his fingertips. Joshua watched as it fell in soft, weightless weaves to the floor. 

When Joshua looked up Seungcheol was gazing at him, and, Seungcheol didn't stop it. 

Joshua didn't understand it, for, he hadn't been half-raised by old Grandfather Choi who had always said, "Sorting out things with loves; look 'em dead in the eye for two minutes, it's like a spell, fixes everything, heals everything. You connect in the universe or some shit. And it says a lot if they can't look at you, Cheol, lad."

Joshua blushed, feeling exposed, vulnerable, concious, as Seungcheol's eyes gazed right into him. He ducked his head down, swallowing.

"Look at me." Seungcheol said immediately. It was a question, it was an order.

Joshua lifted his head, and, nearly an instant later, his eyes began to water gently from the sheer intensity of having to look Seungcheol directly in the eye. Joshua wasn't a crier; it took a great, great deal of anything to really upset him, but, in that moment, it felt like he truly was being picked apart and it just couldn't -

"Oon-hol!" Joshua blurted. Seungcheol. 

Seungcheol didn't say anything.

"Oon-hol, ay uhmhin!" Joshua leapt up from the seat and over to Seungcheol, his arms immediately wrapping around Seungcheol's neck, unable to help himself. He buried his face into the crook of Seungcheol's neck and shook; the scent of Seungcheol's skin, the wildfire warmth of it, the comforting solidity of it...

Joshua was a mess.

All the while, Seungcheol smiled up at the ceiling over Joshua's shoulder. 

Blessed be you lot, he thought of all the Choi men, for, every son had learnt from every Father and Grandfather.

-

Minghao lay on the sitting room floor with Junhui, the two of them smoking.

"I sometimes wondered what it'd be like to be buried in the ground." Junhui remarked. Minghao had just told him about visiting Walter.

"Yeah?" Minghao's head tipped to the side, looking at him.

"Yeah." Junhui blinked slowly.

"What do you think of it?" Minghao asked.

"Dunno." Junhui shrugged. "Never really got to that bit."

Minghao chuckled softly. "Well, that's fucked." He opined.

"Nah, it's right." Junhui half-smiled.

-

Seungcheol walked upstairs with Joshua and then went into the kitchen. Seungcheol settled back at the table, cleaning his gun as though nothing had happened while Joshua stood there and Jeonghan's eyes slid back and forth between them, not understanding a thing that was going on. 

"Ooh won seh ih teh meh. Uhs forheh wear ah uhm ohm ahn meh uh forheh wear ooh uhm ohm soh weh ahn beh aphe, beh tooehher." Joshua's eyes searched Seungcheol's face. You once said it to me. Just forget where I come from and me just forget where you come from so we can be happy, be together. 

"Uh...whose this?" Jeonghan asked. Jeonghan couldn't help his mouth coming open a bit at the sight of the new man, as frail as a newborn and as willowly as a birch with his oxygen tank and plastic capped throat.

Joshua looked at Jeonghan with his long hair and his effiminate face.

"Uh ohf." Joshua said bluntly.

A huge grin peeled Seungcheol's lips apart but it stuttered Jeonghan's features.

"Do you two know each or something...?" Jeonghan gestured between the two of them. He had no idea what Joshua was saying and seeing as Seungcheol hadn't said anything yet he didn't understand yet the gravity of the situation. 

"Uh ell ihm eeh ha teh goh ome." Joshua told Seungcheol. Just tell him he has to go home. "Ah wan ooh an ah goh oh muh oar han eeh goh." I want you and I've got so much more than he's got."

That made up Seungcheol's mind, ultimately.

Once more...

Joshua Hong was back in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most people think that being an Alpha -in concept I should add - is being a ignorant, arrogant, foul-tempered prick. It isn't; it's masuclinity but not masuclinity in the sense of being tattooed and hairy and moustached or gym-muscled with waxed 2015-style Elvis-inspired quiffs. 
> 
> Let's be honest - that's just gay.
> 
> Masculinity in the evolved sense is what is seen of most men - that they are intelligent enough to not say the wrong thing half the time, they are aware enough to not cause a problem most of the time, that they are mechnically felt and able because most guys like cars, motorcycles, boats, trucks, tractors, etc. Boys like cars and motorcycles for example - there's nothing wrong with that. That's not toxic masuclinity for example - that's just boys!!! God, all the people in the world that deem a man is only a good man if he acts like a woman - my Goddess. Cars and motorcycles are wonderful things - so no wonder men like them :) 
> 
> But that's the basic thing with the development of Junhui's character. The man's amazing; he can do anything, fix anything, heal anything, build anything. Yes, he can be grumpy, protective, angry, violent - but he's loving, and, all that "bad" emotion is built on love. And not just love. It's also respect. People could ask, "How does violence come from respect?" But, it's because they are idiots who don't understand anything. I wrote a scene earlier in this book where a drug addict patient had a go at his paramedic partner, and, so, he bashed him. Most people could be made sick by that note, saying the drug addict couldn't help himself, but, especially with Junhui's character - and the real world I should add - the paramedic partner would always come first. If she's being hurt, she's first to be helped. She's also the first to be protected. And if any man had any woman in his company hurt by another man, it's a human reaction for that man to immediately attack the other. There's nothing wrong with that. Human beings are still human beings, not goody-two-shoes twats (most of whom are mentally disabled and are on blue tablets anyway, so, ultimately, their opinion is worth the same as a drop of horse-shit)


	24. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon

Coming soon


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